I hold this fear in soft arms
and let her be.
She is a dear traveller.
She knows this village well.
Peace, dear friend.
We shall sit
and we shall be, without wishing
to change one another.
Tag: Peace
Categories
Happy New Year
It’s just gone 12:30, a new year has rolled in.
Of all the people I have to wish a dear and beautiful new year to…it is you, bloggy friends. My soul folk.
I ache to express what words cannot.
I love celebrating New Year’s Eve, which is quite funny, really, considering my perspective has changed quite a bit over the years.
What is a year, but a day after a day after a few hundred more days?
What is a day, but a spinning of the giant ball upon which we sit?
A year is a human construct.
All of life as we perceive it is.
Can you imagine the first cavemen sitting around the campfire discussing who they aim to be ‘next year’? To them, the sun rises, the sun falls.
There is no day. No month. No year.
Think of all we frame in a year. Time frames can limit us in ways I’m not sure we entirely understand.
But I will still always celebrate the new year as a beautiful way to express gratitude for life. It’s especially beautiful to have a reason to connect and celebrate with each other.
Anyway. ☺️
Happy new year, team.
I send you bucket loads of unconditional love and care.
Take it and sprinkle it every where.
xx Brooke
The scars of life run so very deep. It’s hard to remember them, hard to sit with that pain.
The moments of quiet are beautiful, though, and moments of love revisited are to be cherished.
How beautiful true love feels when compared to its total opposite.
And I will quietly be
as I am.
Yes, I will quietly be.
Categories
The Echos of Love
Categories
Quiet on a Hill
I close my eyes, my foot on a chair.
Pots clang. Time flashes,
bright and loud.
Could there be just me and the stars?
Me and my hands on dry earth?
My heart glows at the thought.
And I run, and I run from the noise.
And I run and hold tight to the sweet,
sweet moments of quiet on a hill.
Exhaustion is the arrow to peace.
Peace is the home that waits for me
always.
Categories
I Miss You
I miss you, my beautiful bloggy friends.
My goodness my heart misses you.
It is truly a strange thing, that here, more than any other place, my truth shines her beautiful light.
Everywhere else on earth, I am partly starving.
Here, I am free.
Like a feather on the wind.
I am free.
Thank you for holding me, here.
xx Brooke
Perhaps
you might ask your heart what it wants.
Perhaps
you might listen.
Perhaps.
Categories
The River and The Stone
The river is always changed
after the stone
has pierced her
still waters.
Categories
The Soft Things
The quiet is here and so am I.
I will life to slow down, I ache for it; I am not made for speed.
I am made for the whisper of the trees, for the silver trail of snails on a rainy path.
I am with this world, but I am captured by it, not a citizen free; can we ever be free, when we have each other to hold? The answer is no, if the heart runs as deep as this.
No, built from sacrifice and deep, deep love.
But how I long to live the day exactly as I choose.
I would live beside the river.
I would walk and feel the breeze.
I would have my family, only.
And I would draw, and sing
and give my heart to the soft things.
brooke-cutler.com 