Categories
Poetry

As She Will

The sun is one

but never can shine

as one.

Her rays will splay,

and always touch the world

(in slices)

as they do.

How they splay

is a question for each new moment.

Who they will touch,

and in what way:

undiscovered.

The sun will shine as she will.

The sun will always shine

as she will.

Categories
Poetry

Heaven

Heaven is

the delicate slice of sun

on dry

cracked

soil.

Categories
A Blog a Day in May

The Bright and Shiny Day

Pass me my joy pots,

and I will splash

all the world

with a bright

and shiny

day.

woman in red jumping
Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Life

The Sun Chair

It’s Saturday morning and I’m lazing in the sun chair.

I always make my way back to this place, this little corner of my world that feeds me so beautifully to the sun. It’s a place for just ‘being’, this sun chair of mine, and these days— more than ever before—I need a place to just ‘be’.

For a great deal of yesterday, the sun chair and I sat and listened to the sounds of life as they broke through the window beside us. The calming wind, the gum trees with their squawking cockatoos and paper leaves; there was also the beautiful music that flowed in through my ears and out through my soul. The sun chair and I listened to those sounds, and they became us for a while.

It was awfully nice.

I don’t know why I’ve chosen the sun chair as my new ‘happy place’, and I don’t think I really have to know. It just feels nice to be here, so I keep coming back.

I do love this sun chair of mine.

For all the reasons, really.

All of them.

brown couch beside clear glass panel door
Photo by Kevin Menajang on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Life

The Night

Sometimes, the night wakes me.

When the night wakes me I lie in bed and march through life in my mind, smiling at all the lovely things, frowning at all the things I wish the day had kept to itself.

I don’t know why the night chooses me as its ‘sometimes companion’. Perhaps it knows that I will always give it a chance to speak its mind.

Perhaps it thinks that I might like to speak my mind with it.

Which I would, of course;

If only the night called itself ‘the day’ and wore the sun bright and warm in its sky.

Then I’d be happy to share my life with it.

Then I’d be happy for the night to wake me.

short coated brown puppy sleeping beside grey dc skate shoe
Photo by Torsten Dettlaff on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

Smile Me A Love Song

I live for days

where the smile that lives

in my heart

warms me like the sun

and sings me like the love song

I was always meant to be.

beach woman sunrise silhouette
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com