Categories
Poetry

All That I Am

I am all that I am,

and wherever I drift

on the wind of today

is as it should be,

is all that I am.

As it should be

is all that I am.

Categories
Poetry

The Sound Of Night

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.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Yes, No, Life

Am I a good

and proper

human.

Yes.

No.

Life.

Categories
Poetry

Alleyways

Slinking down alleyways,

thrilled by the rippling dark.

Black

upon white, cold

stone.

Daisies tilt their heads:

smile.

Axes bite into crimson bone,

dwelling in the corners

of the corners.

Pure.

Devilish.

A curious mix.

Grace breathes life

into fire.

Life breathes fire

into grace.

Categories
Life

This Little River

This little river.

This little boat.

I never could have imagined

this peaceful place

in the shade of Autumn

and her beautiful, falling colours.

Shall I meet you at the rivers edge?

Might we sit a while, watching the ducks

as they gather in hungry groups?

Or will we row on?

Searching the river for nothing

but sweet, silver ripples

to carry us safely

home.

Categories
Life

This Beautiful Sadness

I’m down in the depths of me, today.

It feels like sadness, but it is far more powerful than that.

This beautiful sadness.

It is a sadness I long for, a sadness I crave.

It flows through my veins until there is nowhere left for it to go but out.

Onto this page.

Into new hearts— yours, his, hers, theirs.

I was always told this bliss only lives in happiness.

But this is not happiness.

This is an ache.

This is the most beautiful ache of all.

woman lying in bathtub filled with water
Photo by Craig Adderley on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Life

Whole

I see you there,

squinting at the mirror

of not good enough.

And I wonder if you know

the beautiful creases on the face of you

make up the whole.

And you think,

somehow,

that you are flawed.

Because you have been angry?

Because you have been sad?

Because you have been confused,

or not there,

or completely off the path of ‘neat and tidy’ days.

You must know this.

You are as you should be.

Here, where the path is overgrown.

Where the light is brighter and the shadows darker.

You belong here. Perfectly imperfect.

Just as you were always meant to be:

whole.

Categories
Poetry

Imperfectly Me

This honest girl.

This kind girl.

This sweet girl.

This loving, gentle, patient girl.

She has been this girl forever.

This perfect human girl—how delightful she is.

How loved and cherished and needed, she is.

But.

If she is good, she is also bad.

If she is kind, she is also cruel.

She is every part of her whole.

Every beautifully broken part.

Imperfectly perfect.

Imperfectly me.

blue red and yellow chalk
Photo by Viktoria Goda on Pexels.com