I have spent so much time
searching for the next step,
and yet
the next step
has always been taken.
With no need to search.
I have spent so much time
searching for the next step,
and yet
the next step
has always been taken.
With no need to search.
You may name it what you will.
But the ocean will always smell like
what is beneath the name.
It will always look like
what is beneath the name.
And it will always feel like my very own soul,
(the underside of my name.)
You may name us both what you will.
But the ocean will always be beyond it all.
And so will the deep of me.
Good morning, sun.
And river.
Flowers and trees.
Happy day to you, wind,
and the bird song you sweep over mountains.
(Good morning, birds, and mountains, too.)
I will let you be, this day of life.
I will let you all be as you will,
and I will call you
lovely.
The heavens sing like golden strings around my soul.
Here I am, sweet song.
Take this heart with your melody, dear.
It is yours to open,
it is yours to sing to life
beyond the ordinary day.
Take it.
Take it again.
It is yours,
dear
sweet
music.
Some days I fall. I’m not a good mum. I’m not a good human. I’m not a good me, on those days I fall.
It’s not a consolation to know that I do not fall alone. That humanity itself is in constant fluctuation, that some days we rise and some days we fall. I’ve fallen. Me. The writer of these words, the feeler of these aches. On those days I wish for more, I also wish for peace. The two do not go hand in hand.
But it’s not as easy as finding peace and being happy with that. Without this beautiful depth—without this wild and wistful wind that moves me—there would be no passion to whoosh me along the creative river of life, the river I know and love so well.
Is it about lowering the expectations I have of myself? Or is it about lowering my expectations of life? What, I wonder, would help me to feel at peace in a world that so often clips my wings.
I was given wings to fly.
I long to use them.
Is this me, using them? Right in this moment, is this the way I was meant to fly? To write about love and loss and sorrow and sacrifice? About life at its best and life at its worst and how, at some level, it’s all the same thing, anyway?
What is it all for?
And when will I stop asking: what is it all for?
A rose to meet the morning bright,
to grow in cheer,
to gather life.
Yet day to day
the rose does wither,
day to day the rose does wither,
lost
beneath the foggy dreary.
Lost.
Beneath.
How is a rose to gather
honey sweet
from deep blue trees?
How is a rose to grow
in the dark
of uncaring
life?
How is a rose to grow?
My body is alive
with the sound of night.
How I hunger for this bliss.
How the melody of a simple tune
makes love to my senses,
and I am whole
like the wind,
like the sun,
like love.
Hello my sweet bloggy friends.❤️
Given I share so much of my creative journey with you, I thought it would be so super special to share with you my latest song writing project.☺️ (Yes- that’s my 17 year old piano. Aww. ❤️)
I’m halfway through writing this one, and so far it’s been a lot of fun to write. I love digging into the darker energies of humanity to see what comes up: song writing is such a wonderful way to really yank out the emotional weeds, so to speak. 😂
I have no idea where this one is going to go from here, but I suppose I’ll find out soon.
HUMANITY
Lyrics:
V-1. I see your smiling face, but I know your fall from grace, you pick the pieces up and hide them in the shade of things unseen. Oh yes, I know you well, the dark within your shell, the lies you tell yourself to make it all okay.
So set fire to the good girl inside, and be all you want to be. Don’t disguise the pain in your eyes, the stories untrue: you’re not the only one with secrets.
C- Humanity, oh melt me with the whispers of your blue melody, a symphony of secret wishes: life unseen, hearts unclean, humanity, humanity, humanity. ✨
So much love.
xx Brooke
It is a long
painful
journey.
But the roast potatoes
are out
of this
world.
There is a softness between us.
I gaze, but I do not see you first.
I feel you, first.
I know you,
first,
down to the bones that hold you.
I would ask for a kiss,
but I see it there
waiting
in your eyes.
Those eyes.
Bring me those eyes, one more time,
forever.
Bring me my medicine,
oh, sweet love!
What cruel, dark night
is this that finds me?