Categories
Poetry

Parents

To the parents.

Sometimes it is hard.

It is.

It just is.

Always remember the storms do pass.

Always remember the softness

and the sweetness,

the rose beyond the grey.

And we will grow them

perfectly

horribly

beautifully.

And all will be as it should.

All will be as it should.

I see you.

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Quite Frankly

What is love, you might wish to know.

Love,

quite frankly,

is you.

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Explore

I’m sitting at a table with one kid beside me, and another kid beside the kid beside me. My kids. Precious and two (although given they are six and three years old— it sometimes feels as though there are ten of them. Bless.) 🙂

We’ve just watched the most beautiful, beautiful show thanks to the wonderful program my little boy’s school is remotely running for school. It’s a fish thing. A deep blue sea thing, to be exact, and this week we are learning all about the beauty and majesty of the deep blue sea. I say we are learning because it seems there is quite a lot I don’t know about the ocean. For example, I’ve only just learned that, not only is coral alive, it also gives birth to real-life coral babies! Mind blown.

It just goes to show how sound asleep I’ve been for the majority of my life, sticking to the lanes I already know. The beautiful news is: there is a brighter shine to my perspective now that I’ve opened my eyes. The world seems magical and alive, again, more than ever before.

There is a small problem. There are so many wondrous, exciting, beautiful pathways to explore, and yet there is the lingering truth that finding time (and energy) to explore them remains a challenge. I’m part parent, part human with desires of my own. I’m not sure I’ll ever find the balance it takes to successfully master both at the same time, but I’ll never stop trying.

Let the life within me swell from the excitement of possibility, and let these sweet babes of mine feed off the shine in their hopeful Mum’s eye.

Life is beautiful, and mine I will use to explore as I will.

macro photography of white coral
Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

Home

Home is in this house.

The quiet of my love for them.

The dreams of my essence, racing into a fresh new world.

Home, you are my refuge.

Family, you are my home.

Categories
Poetry

Little Sun

Never forget, little Sun.

You are so loved.

Categories
Poetry

This Place of Quiet

I am here in the quiet, knowing I am home.

I am the same, in this place, as the windy trees

and the sunset that melts across the bay.

This quiet.

It is the porcelain wail of a newborn child, it is the aching

of a freshly broken heart.

I know it well.

I know this place of quiet so well.

elderly man sitting on bench in park during autumn day
Photo by Elizaveta Kozorezova on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Life

Proof of Glum

I’m hovering over the heater. If my pants were made of plastic, in fact, they’d have melted to my legs by now.

That’s beside the point, I suppose. The point is…actually, there is no point. I’m just feeling a little glum and I wanted the world to know that this sort of thing happens to people.

Sadness. Pain.

It happens, and here I am, gifting you all with the gloriously heavy mud bricks of proof. Proof of glum. (Thank goodness I made this a little blog of everything. Today, it’s my diary.)

I wonder if any of you remember the girl who started this blog. Perpetually happy. Not a cloud in the sky. She was a little soul starved, certainly, but she was sparkly, and happy happy happy. She could walk in nature and listen to music without bursting into flaming sobs of aching life.

My life is broken. And it’s also the greatest, most beautiful magical life I’ve ever known; a creative adventure that touches me to the very core. Can you see the utter confusion I’m dealing with here?

I’m angry. At everybody and nobody at all.

I’m sad, because I am.

I’ve just read a wonderful article about the creative brain, actually, and how creative folk do tend to go through bouts of depression and the like, just because of the way we’re wired. Because of the often self imposed isolation (umm, me.) Because of the heightened senses (umm, also me.)

I suppose it’s a seperate can of worms when you throw in a marriage seperation, two small children, a global health pandemic and a raging angry sea of humans. I feel all these things deeply. And where once I buried pain as soon as it struck, I now allow myself to feel it. (Who even does that. Blurgh.)

I don’t want anyone to worry about me. The clouds always clear. Usually by morning (so there’s the bright side girl, being annoying again.)

But life, hey. ☺️ Sometimes I just feel a little more human than I really want to, and I suppose the next part of my journey is learning how to be okay with that.

I’m certain I must be known around town as that girl who walks and cries. It’s the music. It quite literally becomes me, to the point where I feel like I’m a floating puff of emotional cloud. It’s not even my emotion. Its the emotion (the energy) of the song. People must think I’m barking mad as I float along, sometimes whimsical, sometimes in tears.

Anyway. Fascinating. Wonderous.

Achey.

I’ll get there. x

So much love, bloggy friends.

This ol’ softy, Brooke.

Categories
Poetry

Tonight

Tonight

I tear again.

The ache of a mother

remembering her ducklings, sweet.

It’s a long, long road to the deep end of a soul.

And some days ripple and crash

more than other days do.

The rain falls inside.

Tonight.

mother holding her baby
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on Pexels.com

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 18. The Little Boy

Darling is the little boy that cannot sleep.

‘I think I need a bandaid, Mum. Mum? I think I need a bandaid.’

They start their tricks young, these beautiful tiny humans, don’t they.

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 10. Little Darling Ones

Dearest darling bunny ones

my hop-a-long divine,

this Mother’s heart will always beat

to find your hands in mine.

 

One life I share with you my dears,

one chance I have to say:

I’ll do my very best to be

my best in every way.

 

If not for me, then for you both,

I’ll fly into my shine,

and hope the twinkle raises you,

beyond each wish of mine.

 

So, happy day, my darlings two,

you’ve made my heart fly free,

and to your sleepy dreams, I’ll send

a loving kiss from me.

***

Happy Mother’s Day, my lovely bloggy friends.

To the Mothers. To the Daughters.

To the women who mother themselves SO beautifully, and share the way with the rest of us.

Thank you.

You are always enough. Even when you doubt your worth, you are ALWAYS just a step away from finding it again. Trust. The wind will take you there, I’m so sure.

xx

So much love,

Brooke.

(Yeah, yeah. All the mushy love hearts, you know what I’m like 😛 Whatevs. 😛 )

european-rabbits-bunnies-grass-wildlife.jpg
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com