the fabric of a Sunday night in Seattle
the rain comes
in torrents
ravaging the sky
pressing hard
into the earth
aching, turgid clouds
release as
I drift off
in the arms of
the Beloved
mind quiet
heart peaceful
body spent
the rain comes
in torrents
ravaging the sky
pressing hard
into the earth
aching, turgid clouds
release as
I drift off
in the arms of
the Beloved
mind quiet
heart peaceful
body spent
I suppose if my Dad loved me– if he showed he cared, I would have believed I was lovable. But he didn’t and I didn’t. And I tried to fill up that hole– spackle spackle pound pound hammer hammer. But it didn’t work. So today, I’m trying to find ways to love myself. I’m starting…
Glittery pink and white targets.
To the East I travel to you In my heart White birch against steel sky An errant eyebrow Afire with sunlight And a sparrow flying from my throat Feathers surrendering To a meandering stream Or caught- in thorns Pungent sage and Marlboros As the hills stretch out Engulfing and –becoming abysmally wide And deep
“You don’t have to let yourself be terrorized by other people’s expectations of you.” ~Sue Patton Thoele As the rain is falling with soft urgency this morning and the bright green birch leaves outside my window flirt with me, I sit here in my warm bed sipping coffee, listening, reflecting and looking at my Facebook…
the world, awash in moonlight. just one month later, you seem like a distant dream
oh, fragrant flower! open yourself to me now so that I may love you