Categories
Poetry

Magical Questions

Where do thoughts go

once we have thought them?

Where does the wind go

once the storm has passed?

And why do so few wonder about life,

why do they not ask more

magical questions?

Like where do thoughts go?

(And the wind: are they together, somewhere?)

And how is it that these words

came to be called

words

when there is surely

a deeper dimension to language

and life

that will never be captured

by labels

and concepts.

Categories
Poetry

Sunshine

I’d like to find the sunshine

beneath my pillow, when I wake.

And I will cup it in my hands,

and I will hold it close and whisper:

‘Shine, sweet little light.

Shine ever brightly,

might the pathway ahead

light and walk with me.

Categories
Poetry

A Little More Than This

I do not care to be seen.

I do not wish to scramble,

do not wish to fight my way

to the top

to be seen,

to be loved

a little more than this.

Perhaps I should try harder

to care.

Perhaps I should wish

that I might choose,

one day,

to fight like them

until I have been

chosen

and loved.

A little more than this.

Categories
Poetry

How Lovely

How lovely.

The wind of peace.

Here.

Now.

My

how lovely.

Categories
Poetry

Wonderful, Wonderful

They didn’t understand her,

but they allowed her

just to be.

And that,

she knew,

was a wonderful, wonderful

wonder.

Categories
Poetry

Sweet Eternity

Oh, the heat

that I see

that I feel

that I know.

I will be the flame

to my own fire.

I will light the path

of burning

sweet

eternity.

Categories
Poetry

Loneliness

There is depth and beauty in loneliness.

It is quiet.

Peaceful.

And though I’ve never known it,

loneliness is the wave that has known me

a lifetime, long.

Its quiet waits for nothing,

it just hangs in the air,

aching,

holding me closer

and closer

until I am quiet, too.

I will try to let it be.

To never ask it to leave,

but instead,

let it fill me

until I have no room left inside.

I will let it be, now,

loneliness.

I will no longer be attached

to wishing it gone.

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Categories
Poetry

Curious

The concept of listening to music.

Curious.

Close your eyes.

Where is the music?

Are you listening?

Or is the music

in

you?

Categories
Poetry

The Clouds

Somewhere in the clouds

is where you will find me.

Am I broken,

or am I just me?

Floating,

somewhere beyond the day.

Floating,

not quite flying away.

As humanity goes,

I am far from normal,

and yet I’d not trade a cloud

for a rock, and a chance to be

normal.

What is normal?

What is this broken world

asking me to be?

Categories
Life

An Open Heart

You might think the glow of an open heart to be impossible outside the honeymoon phase of romantic love, but I assure you: it’s quite possible. And it is very, very lovely, my goodness.

When I relax into the warmth in my chest, I feel the most beautiful sense of softness and love radiate through me. Especially when I’m listening to music. It’s as though a night light has been switched on in the dark of me, and there I am, ready to hold it out to the world in search of someone to share its glow with.

A physical feeling of heat and light, is the best way I can describe my version of an open heart, and there are not many natural feelings like it at all (apart from the primal urges of childbirth, perhaps, which…actually, I should write a post on that, sometime. Childbirth is often painted for its painful side, but overlooked for the absolute primal miracle it is.)

I’m so terribly unfinished in terms of my emotional healing from the past, but there are some beautiful things going on in my life in the now that I’m grateful for. For the first time in my life I’m happily rising early to do yoga. Every morning. I’ve done it for a week, and I know I won’t stop because I’ve decided it, firmly. It feels far too beautiful to wake my body up in such an earthy way, and it’s linked with the very best part—I’m no longer rushing around and frantic when it comes time to whistle the kids out the door. In itself, that is a small step in the right direction.

It definitely helps that I’ve found the most beautiful, gentle yoga teacher on YouTube. Every time he whispers ‘relax, it’s alright, it’s all good’, it’s like it activates something within my core that knows he is one hundred percent right. That, no matter what, it’s alright, it’s all good.

Anyhow, I just wanted to check in with my real voice and let you all know I’m still here and that, no, I’ve not got a poetry writing robot posting here on my behalf. Although, truly: I’ll be if I know where some of my writing comes from. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: some of the words I write really do not feel like my doing, at all. It’s all very magical and lovely and strange.

I’m happy with magical and lovely and strange, if you are. xx

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