It is how I am today.
This darling tumble weed,
rolling
slowly down the precious hill
they call life.
I no longer search
for a deeper wind,
to roll faster
or better…
than what?
I simply roll,
and sigh,
and roll and sigh again.
Then slowly come to rest
at the slope’s grassy end.
I wish only to walk in the rain.
As life thunders around me
imperfection after imperfection
(often mine)
I wish for peace.
And I wish to walk in the rain.
I must come back.
Back home, once again
to the depths.
To find a home in the world
and beneath it,
in the deep,
where I belong,
and do not belong.
I must find home
in both the deep
and the shallows
for good.
I must learn to live
and breathe
with
and without
fear.
It is a beautiful fall of rain, and I am soothed.
There is aching in the world.
Noises I cannot escape from.
Truths being loudly and violently declared.
And yet here I am, a witness to it all.
Choosing peace among the chaos.
Choosing peace again, and again.
Just one step deeper. One step further into the stars, and I am there.
It is rare that I allow myself to come home, knowing the depths and where they can take me. Knowing that real life can never be a match to the perfect light I find in this place.
Why do I leave, I ask myself, when perfection is on offer, and the simple task of folding laundry is a beautiful gift of moment to moment life? Everything is soft in the moment. Everything complete, and I am wanting for nothing.
Thought is the destroyer of the wind that moves me, and yet I think, and I fret, and I think about why I’m fretting, and life becomes the scramble it was before I knew this beautiful home in the stars.
Today, this night, I feel a beautiful softness of heart. My eyes are tired, and my soul aches from all the disharmony in the world. And yet, gentle is here, and life fills me with memories of beautiful love gone by.
I choose to be content.
I choose.
To be.
My heart has been closed, and so I have been away from this place.
I’ve been well aware of my differences in the world, well aware of the sorrow within the walls of lace and sun that I call ‘me’.
My truth will always be a sweet and soft sorrow. It’s really quite lovely; please don’t feel sad for it.
And yet, it is lonely, and home only to me.
I wonder what lives within the hearts of the others.
For,
what is sorrow
but a moment of joy
left unattended.
I am here,
darling heart.
And I allow you
to open
to the natural unfolding
of life.
I choose
this kind love.
These stars in the trees
beyond the river’s glowing fog.
This heaven that slips through
the layers of my humanity.
Life
is precious
to the whispering
deep ones.
How beautiful,
to discover the stars
one precious night
at a time.
brooke-cutler.com 