Beautiful are the moments
where I remember
you are you,
and I am me.
Perfectly.
Beautiful are the mornings
the sun shines on cobwebby thoughts
and there I see the glimmer of truth.
How beautiful you are.
How beautiful I am.
How beautiful.
To know that different
is not another word for wrong.
I have lived on this earth with them,
but not apart of them.
It is a story I have not written.
I,
( whoever ‘I’ is )
would not write a story such as this.
I am them and they are me,
and yet there is a silence so loud in the air
that feeds on my soul,
and asks me to learn to be happy
despite of it all.
I love,
and I see they would love
if they would stop
for a moment
and breathe.
There is a beautiful fire in the belly of them.
A pure, raging storm
meant for the rising of their beautiful day.
But they use it to fight.
To stay lost in childhood gone by
and I resist it.
I resist the binds their stories have gathered,
knowing I am not a story of shame, fear, or hate.
I try to hold them, I try to wait.
And yet, perhaps I might try
to fall into the ocean of it all
and understand,
without resistance,
that I am just one of many waves
surging differently to the rest.
Hello my beautiful bloggy friends 🙂
Technically I’m still on my bloggy break, but I’ve been feeling an urge to reach out to you all and send some invisible flying cuddles, just incase you need them.
There is such thickness and density in the air at the moment, and I wanted to remind you that wherever you sit among the noise: you’re quite perfect, just the way you are.
If your petals are orange and all the rest of the flowers in the garden are pink: wonderful.You were born to be orange. So be orange.
So much love, bloggy friends.
I’ll be back next week, sometime.
xx Brooke
Bloggy friends?
If ever there comes a time
where you think you have no one,
please remember
that is entirely untrue.
If you feel alone,
If you need more love
more connection
more safety
than you have?
I’m here.
You have me.
I just wanted to say that.
xx
I see, now, that my truth will never be yours.
And your truth will never be mine,
because we are two seperate grains
in the bread-loaf of life.
But we are the same in some ways.
We are both the same loaf of bread.
(Humanity)
We are the same.
But we are different,
and we each have an important
texture
and taste
to grow the world with.
Just think of what we might achieve
together
if we remembered
that each of us
adds nutritional value
to the delicious
bread-loaf
we are.
(Nommmm)
( 😛 )
( xx )
Psssst.
We’ve still got this.
