Categories
Writing

Purpose

I’ve tried all the angles. I’ve felt all the rights and wrongs about what they say a writer should do, should be, should want…but I’m not like them.

I want barely any of what they tell me I should want.

To write from my heart, that is what I want.

To touch other hearts, I want that, too.

To shine so that others might know what it is like to shine on the other end of my words: I want that, more than anything else. Life is for dreaming and being the sweet dreams that we are.

I’ve tried to write for money: it leaves me empty.

I’ve tried to write any old thing: it leaves me tired, frustrated, hungry.

To share the depths of my soul is what I am here to do.

To connect with others at the level of the heart.

I want that.

I want that.

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

Together, Alone

In the lonely hours

they cry for their humanity.

For the lost past,

for the uncertain present

they wander lost.

Together,

alone.

Categories
Poetry

Clear Air

One day,

she sits alone,

and understands it all.

That she’s never been alone.

That all this time

their pain has lived within her,

pain she never asked for,

pain that is not hers to bear.

Clear air is what she knows she is,

not charcoal-grey squalls,

nor black-rimmed mud.

A heavy reality,

a scared, scared world

drowns her in the darkness

of humanity’s shadow.

Until she removes the soot

and clears the air

once again.

Categories
Poetry

My Own Peace

Some days,

I take a deep breath

and ask the world to soften.

The world never does soften.

So I fall behind its wind,

and I find my own

peace.

Categories
Poetry

Beneath The Sad Moon

What is this softness

that takes my heart dancing

beneath the sad moon?

When aching life pours from the sky,

and my heart cries

to be heard

for once

without question.

Will I listen?

No.

I will hear,

but I will not listen, for fear,

of what?

The heart needs too much.

The heart needs too much

that I,

whoever I am,

cannot ask life to give.

Categories
Life

Unravelled

Music brought me undone again, today.

Unravelled. Beautifully. Thoroughly.

And though it’s not a surprise that music can so easily undress my soul, it is often a surprise to feel the way it surges and dances through my body.

How it grabs hold of my belly, my arms, my legs, and drags itself upwards.

How it grounds me. So deeply, so powerfully I could never fly away.

I don’t know why this happens to me.

All I know is that it is profoundly beautiful.

And I’m grateful.

I’m really so far beyond grateful.

Categories
Poetry

Sweet Aching Quiet

Sweet aching quiet.

Soft night, curled up beside me.

I know you.

I know your fragile whispers, well.

Categories
Poetry

Somewhere

Somewhere between the quiet

and the haze, I go

to sit for a while.

Somewhere

between the quiet

and the haze.

And you might ask me

what I hope to find there.

You might ask me if it’s true.

That the haze shimmers like a thousand suns,

and the quiet melts like vanilla cream

on apple pie, oh, sweet love.

I would tell you

you must seek for yourself

the whispers, true.

Somewhere between the quiet and the haze

you must go.

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

How Lovely

How lovely.

The wind of peace.

Here.

Now.

My

how lovely.