Categories
Poetry

The Stories We Tell

The stories we tell ourselves

about what life

is,

does,

means,

will make our hearts

or break our hearts.

The choice,

I suppose,

is ours.

Make, break

or both, sometimes.

If only the answer were simple.

Then again…

what is simple?

Categories
Poetry

Love Kept Her

And with a smile,

she held life gone by.

And love kept her.

Love kept her,

home.

Home, at last.

Categories
Poetry

Seasons

And when there is sun

such as this,

and when there is beautiful drift

and swaying trees,

I see life as it is

and I know it is good.

For, the mind, I know

tells stories.

And yet

perfect truth

is this touch of fresh air.

Just another season.

Another precious season

of darling life.

Categories
Poetry

Careless Life

Do not touch this softness.

I see you

angrily tearing at her bones,

leave her be.

Dear sweet, peaceful girl.

For she must rest,

she is weary,

must rest, she has been

battered and bruised

by the tentacles of careless,

careless life!

Categories
Poetry

The Rose

Even the most darling rose

is a work in progress.

Be the rose.

How beautiful

that she will show you the way

to freedom.

Categories
Poetry

Each New End

Life is a story I tell myself.

And I daren’t tell it wrong

for fear of the unhappy ending.

But what is unhappy?

And what is an ending

if a beginning is found

on the other side

of each new end?

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
Poetry

Bravery

Bravery

is born

on the tender tears

of loss and disappointment.

Keep stepping.

You are so loved.

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.