Categories
Poetry

For Peace

No.

Nothing is more important than peace.

Not to me.

Me who has faced the wicked fire of others.

Me who has held my own heart

and felt it break in my hands.

I have broken,

but I am not broken.

I am ready to find and keep the softness.

I am ready to find and keep the peace.

Categories
Life

Carols

It’s tradition.

And though the tradition has changed, it’s still just as beautiful to me.

I am no longer a child.

I am no longer innocent and stainless.

But there is a beating heart within me that remembers.

Merry Christmas, my beautiful bloggy friends.

From my soul to yours, Merry Christmas.

And a happy new year.

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Culture

Sometimes I wish I had been born of another culture, a culture of eyes wide open, a culture of hearts wide open.

They say to resist ‘what is’ is to cause your own suffering. Am I suffering? No. But I certainly do ask the question: what if?

Would I be further along in my life journey if, as a child, my sensitivity had been celebrated by my culture, rather than shunned? Would I have saved myself years of healing from the innocent unconsciousness of those around me? Because of a rigid cultural narrative, those who have loved me have accidentally hurt me. I shudder to remember those who have held me in their lives as an insignificant supporting character.

I hope humanity soon understands that the world they see is a choice, rather than a given. I hope the beautiful little soft girls of the world are one day celebrated for the depth and gorgeous attention to detail they bring the world. How shameful that they haven’t been, thus far.

Am I angry that I was brought up starved of female role models? Am I angry that not even my Mother knew how to teach me to truly grow into womanhood? How could she? All she knew was what the western world was. Hardened. Money hungry. Black and white.

There is an aspect of me that is angry. But a bigger part of me understands. There is no one to be angry with. We have all been brought up in boxes. Every single one of us, and when you’re inside of a box (we call them cultures) you truly cannot see there is another way. Another way to see, another way to be. And if you cannot see or be, you cannot teach. You cannot change.

I hope enough eyes are opening, now, to the beauty of individuality.

I hope enough hearts are ready to be free.

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

Is This The Way The World Was Meant To be?

I’ve changed. My goodness I’ve changed. And although the change has been gradual, I am living a version of my internal life I have never lived before.

It all has to do with my heart, and maybe (probably, absolutely) hormones. You see, the thing is, empathy for humans has always come easily to me. But now, empathy is changing the way I see the entire universe.

Once, I would have seen a cut flower and been very pleased to have been given such a lovely thing. Now, I feel for the flower. It has been cut to make me happy, and yet it is dying in my hands. Is this the way the world was meant to be?

Once, I would have read a book, held the pages close to my face and inhaled. Oh, the smell. It would have brought me such pleasure. Now, I think of the trees and all the animals who’ve lost homes because of the glorious romantic story I’ve called books. Is this the way the world was meant to be?

Once, I would have seen a spider on the wall and swatted it, killing it instantly. Now, I deliver it outside and onto a bush (if I can). I think of my children and wonder how I would feel If someone swatted one of them just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Killing for convenience? Is this the way the world was meant to be?

And lastly, I would have gotten a pet and loved it as my own child. Those innocent, melty puppy eyes, how they would capture my heart and soul. Now, I connect to the primal core of its mother, and I hate myself. Taking her baby (or the baby of any living being, without permission) to meet my own needs. Is this the way the world was meant to be?

I am not at all saying that anyone who has a pet, kills spiders or reads books is doing ‘wrong’. I am one of you. I do these things, too. All I’m saying is: I see this world anew.

And because of this, I fear I see too much to go back.

Where am I going, then?

Where am I going if I love, too much?

Photo by sergio souza on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

The Window

On days where rain settles on the window, I look to the future with dusty eyes.

How does one peer beyond the droplets there? How beautiful can the horizon appear when my eyes are glazed with the muck and haze of old?

There was a time, once —when I was young and stainless— when the window was free from drizzle, the horizon: apricot sun over a sea of gentle destiny.

But lovely as life seemed without a shadow, I have seen rain awash the hill. Where, in this wild world, truth and softness is but a dream to be wished, and love, a precious ornament easily shattered.

Still, I choose to be grateful. To count the rays of beautiful sun and see beyond the ghastly truth on the hill.

I must choose this light.

The alternative is too dark for me to bear.

Categories
Poetry

In The Wind

I saw her when I closed my eyes,

I felt her in the wind.

And I knew I had to tell her

how tired I am,

and how I never imagined

life would be so hard.

I had to tell her

how I am in love

with them, and with life.

But how tired I am, and how I miss her.

Oh, how I miss her,

oh, how I do.

I saw her when I closed my eyes.

I felt her in the wind.

Categories
Poetry

A Darling Home

An open heart.

A darling home

for my children,

my love,

and me.

Categories
Life

Forgiven

And when she aches

she will know a world beyond herself.

Where thunder becomes her;

a raging fire, waiting to be.

How is this small softness

so wide with grief beyond the day!

How is this smile,

so often true,

suddenly drawn with a question mark?

They will know her pain

only as the tilt of an eye.

They will be forgiven by this one

before they see her sorrow there.

Always, they will be forgiven by this one.

Categories
Life

Hold Me Now

With this grace, I will hold my head high.

I will look to the sun

and grant it permission to fill my heart,

on this day, as with any other day.

There is a softness in the air that reminds me

of white clouds and open buds of rose.

Unbroken; there is no rain here

that I cannot meet with my spirit.

Hold me now, soft sky.

Hold me now, soft sky.

Hold me now.

Categories
Life

Goodbye Christopher Robin

I cried and I smiled as the credits rolled, and I knew, in that moment, that I’d found another piece of home.

The movie was ‘Goodbye Christopher Robin.’

And it was…really very beautiful, actually.

How very different the world looks through the eyes of time gone by.

How very different the world looks when you become another version of yourself.

Photo by Teresa Howes on Pexels.com