Categories
Poetry

Messy Life

There is no need to be afraid of the

not good enough.

This weakness you perceive,

this pathetic softness you scold yourself for

compared to

she who declares herself strong.

Close your eyes.

Breathe and know this.

You are perfection

just the way you are.

For you must know this flimsy frailty

in order to recognise the goddess

who one day will rise within.

It must be.

For without this shadow

the towering goddess inside

would remain hidden to you.

Trust the journey.

Trust in the perfection

of messy life.

Categories
Writing

Moon Unconditional

‘Sun?’

‘Yes, Moon?’ said Sun as he fell into the evening sky.

‘I shine every night. I brighten the humans’ world. Why do they not love me?’

‘Moon?’

‘Yes, Sun?’

‘You have a chip in your tooth.’

‘Do I?! Oh, no! Maybe that’s why!’

‘Moon?’

‘Yes, Sun?’

‘It’s a tooth.’

‘I know. And I don’t want a broken one.’

‘But you have a broken one.’

‘Sun! You are not hearing what I am saying! The humans don’t love me and I don’t want a broken tooth.’ Moon stormed around the sky, looking for her lost boot.

‘Moon? I love you. And you have a broken tooth. Not but, and. Did you hear me? And you have a broken tooth.’

‘Sun. I have no idea what you’re on about,’ said Moon, putting her found boot on and keying in her crescent shine coordinates.

‘I know, Moon, I know. You’ll understand one day.’

‘Maybe.’

‘You will.’

And with that, Moon said goodbye and shone unconditionally for the humans below.

Categories
Poetry

Let Go

Let go.

For peace.

Categories
Poetry

Soft Things

She floats on the wind

as they stare.

And they will never know her

as their own.

Never see her truth

as anything other

than feathers in the garden.

Yet, she knows herself, dear.

And she knows, darling softness,

that a field of daisies

and daffodils

and dandelions waits for her

somewhere.

Where the soft things come together

at last.

Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Ugly, Horrible, Beautiful

Through pain, love and connection can be found.

Through misstep, the sweet path forward can be carved and tread.

I remind myself, often, that mistakes are beautiful. Contrast to what is ‘right’ brings truth to those who allow themselves to see their imperfections. It is okay to be vulnerable.

It is okay to fail.

It is necessary to fail in order to gain perspective.

I have a bad habit of getting down on myself and my imperfections, and yet I also sit here with eyes wide open. I see that every mistake was perfect. Every dark moment, shimmering with light.

Life is ugly, horrible, beautiful.

Life is mine, and yours, and ours.

I ache with gratefulness.

I ache with it.

Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com
Day 22. Everything is beautiful
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Beautiful, Tonight

I’m going to gift myself something beautiful, tonight.

I’m going to gift myself time.

I’ve been running on full speed, trying to be everything I can be, just in case I run out of minutes in my day.

Most days, as a Mum of three little ones, I do run out of minutes.

And energy.

So, tonight I will sit and breathe.

I’ll not need to go anywhere, I’ll not need to do anything.

All I’ll need to do

is be.

And the time starts…

now.

Day 20. Breathe
Categories
Poetry

I Am Here

I tell you this,

dear present sun.

Let you shine upon my days

so I might see the light

upon every web.

Might every moment glimmer

with rainbow shine

at the very hint of forgetfulness.

For I am here to learn how to love.

I am here

to learn

how to love.

Categories
Poetry

Free

To know the soft skin of my own truth

as it peers upon the fears of others.

I catch their fear,

I hold it.

I catch their fear

I love it well.

And my truth

whispers:

of this ache, my dear,

you are free.

Categories
Poetry

I Am This

I have decided

there is a way life should be,

a way I should be.

As a woman.

As a mum.

As a fictional character

plucked perfectly from the sky

of humanity.

And I run

and I run

and I run to get there.

To be that.

And I run until I decide

that I don’t have to run there.

Because I am here.

I am this.

I am this.

Categories
Poetry

For Peace

No.

Nothing is more important than peace.

Not to me.

Me who has faced the wicked fire of others.

Me who has held my own heart

and felt it break in my hands.

I have broken,

but I am not broken.

I am ready to find and keep the softness.

I am ready to find and keep the peace.