Categories
Poetry

Waves

I have lived on this earth with them,

but not apart of them.

It is a story I have not written.

I,

( whoever ‘I’ is )

would not write a story such as this.

I am them and they are me,

and yet there is a silence so loud in the air

that feeds on my soul,

and asks me to learn to be happy

despite of it all.

I love,

and I see they would love

if they would stop

for a moment

and breathe.

There is a beautiful fire in the belly of them.

A pure, raging storm

meant for the rising of their beautiful day.

But they use it to fight.

To stay lost in childhood gone by

and I resist it.

I resist the binds their stories have gathered,

knowing I am not a story of shame, fear, or hate.

I try to hold them, I try to wait.

And yet, perhaps I might try

to fall into the ocean of it all

and understand,

without resistance,

that I am just one of many waves

surging differently to the rest.

Photo by Pawel Kalisinski on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Octopus Mum

I just fell in love with an octopus.

It was an octopus mum, to be specific, a mum just like me. And my mum, and yours, and his mum and hers.

I wouldn’t say it was the octopus herself I fell in love with, exactly…

It was the love.

The love I somehow absolutely knew she felt for her little tiny octopus babes. It was grace in motion, the way she bundled her precious little ones into the ocean, the way she held them with her soul.

Maybe it’s because I’m pregnant (29 weeks, not that I’m counting down or anything.)

Or maybe it’s just because love is what connects every living creature on this earth and I think that is the most beautiful miracle, regardless of the motherly hormones surging through my veins.

I think it’s the miracle thing.

The love thing, the complete and utter mind boggling beauty of it all.

I am so saddened it took me this long to connect to all of life, truly I am, but I’m also beyond grateful to have had a chance to know this depth of connection with my fellow planet dwellers. It really is the most magical, wondrous thing.

Now, If you’ll excuse me…there must be another adorable octopus video on the internet somewhere. I mean, surely.

Photo by Pia on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Call Me Shakespeare

Oh!

Has this truth been truly seen!

But a glimpse into a floating sea

of strange reality,

but a knowing truer than true can be!

Who is Shakespeare?

That terrible, desperate soul,

falling,

falling,

landing evermore in the stories

of aching romance and tragedy?

I am Shakespeare.

I am the writer.

I am the lover.

And so are you, love.

So are you,

lover of passionate life

and love.

Categories
Life

All I Am

How lovely it is

to find home again.

In this home

I am what I am,

and what I am

is a river,

a rock,

a lion,

a ballerina.

What I am

is all I am.

All I am

is all there ever was.

All I am

is all

I am.

Categories
Life

It’s Love

Perhaps I am here to write. But at the core of that, at the core of my words, at the core of my message…I’m here to love. I always have been, and it’s more clear to me now that I’m allowing my love to be seen.

I can’t help but feel great waves of empathy, particularly for those who are struggling in life. Those who are scared. Those who are being unfairly treated, by those who don’t even recognise the wrongs they perpetuate (as a result of their own messy humanity.)

It’s all a bit of a mess.

It’s all a bit of a mess.

So maybe I shouldn’t waffle at you about love.

Maybe I should be writing something of substance: something about the politics of what’s going on with the floods in eastern Australia, maybe, and how they’d want me to say it’s got nothing to do with the way we treat the planet (when, actually, I believe that Mother Nature was the very first woman who learned to powerfully speak her truth.)

But I’m not going to talk about natural disasters, or about who believes what.

I’m going to talk about love, and how I feel it, and how I feel for everything and everyone, and wish that more humans did.

Because underneath every natural disaster, lives love. The rescuer rowing a family to safety while their own home—a home they have loved and cared for with everything they have—drowns behind them.

That’s love.

That’s not politics.

It’s not who made the wrong choice about dam management and should be fired because of it.

It’s not who is right and who is wrong about the effects of climate change on a struggling earth.

It’s love. It’s always been love.

Beneath it all.

Photo by Anete Lusina on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Every Drop

You think you are one thing.

You are not one thing.

You are the entire ocean.

Take your time,

be every drop.

Categories
Life

All Of Me

This morning, I stood at the sink and cried.

Years ago, quite by accident, and quite without me knowing why…I stopped crying after a lifetime of being a human river. I didn’t notice it happening, it just happened and there was nothing for me to do but keep living, wondering if this was the me I was meant to be all along.

I now know the lack of tears meant that I had lost myself. That I had been suppressing my emotions, either for the comfortability of those around me (to fit in) or just because the difficulties of life had closed my heart in order to keep me safe.

This morning, as I slushed around in that pile of dishes, I felt my wholeness again. For those of you who are new to my beautiful bloggy family, this reawakening of my spirit/senses began about two years ago, I’d say, and every so often I find myself reaching new milestones of truth, you might call them.

This morning delivered one of them, and every beautiful current of the river that once moved me was back, if only for a few moments. I’d just been told a story. A very sad one. A story of a man who had lost his wife and child in a car crash many, many years ago.

I cried those tears as though I was that man. I felt those tears as though I was that man. I ached for his pain. I cried for him.

And I knew it was right.

And I knew that, once again, I was all of me.

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Categories
Poetry

Pitchfork

Yes, you could judge them.

But if I were you,

I would breathe first.

Would you like to be judged

for being

just the way that you are

because you are that way?

To judge another

is to place shame

in your own hands.

This I have learned,

and continue to learn,

the hard way.

One day, I will 

be free.

And so will those

I continue to judge.

person wearing black top
Photo by fotografierende on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

What Really Matters

What really matters

is love.

In the end,

love is all that matters.

The end.

🌿

(This is a beautiful, beautiful short film. Please watch it all the way through if you feel so inclined- and then send it to every single person you know. And if the writer and producers of this film ever see these words: I see you. And thank you.)

www.youtube.com/watch

Categories
Life

We are One

open.spotify.com/track/6EPyl8kU0dPIgoLCIuh25F

It’s important to me at this time (and, in fact, forever and always) to shine a hope for peace and equality for all.

We are one.

And though this song sings an Australian story, I sing it to the world. Because I am me, I am not on any one side; to me there are no two sides.

Just one.

Humanity.

Today, we speak for our beautiful black lives: who matter now, and always have mattered. Tomorrow, perhaps we might speak for each and every life touched by the closed eyes (and heart) of intolerance.

For the less obvious among society who have been oppressed and eye rolled entire lifetimes long, often suffering in silence:

* the sensitives and empaths of the world.

* the quirky/odd ones.

* the wildlings.

* the nerds.

Mainstream society is very good at identifying the obvious marginalised groups and fighting for their inclusion and acceptance.

It’s time, though, to dig deeper by asking:

Who am I intolerant of?

And why?

Are they not human, also? Like me?

We are all worthy of being seen through neutral eyes, and we are all worthy of forgiveness and being held through our darkest days.

Embracing our individuality, and separating from the rigid judgements and expectations of mainstream culture, ironically, seems to be the way to remember we are one.

Being kind to ourselves, and our fellow humans as we work through our kinks, might also be a lovely thing.

So much love, my beautiful bloggy friends.

I’ll stop with my little bursts of unsolicited opinion, now, because I trust that everything in life happens for a reason. I trust that everyone finds the exact experiences they need in order to shine exactly the way they were always meant to.

Why, then, did I post this particular contradictory blog post?

Only the wind knows that, I suppose.

xx Your girl always, Brooke. xx