“Look at the beautiful, green buds!” she exclaimed.
“I worry for them. It’s only February,” he replied.
Now, it’s nearly April and the leaves are unfurling and stretching to the sun.
He’s not here to see that and yet it’s happening all the same.
Faith trumps worry.
I’m at the Frye, waitig in the cold sun for J. He’s stuck in traffic. I don’t mind the wait. It’s lovely to let the sun caress my cheek. (A cheek that has known many tears lately.) The floating musical island is playing behind me. The water of the fountains flows, adding it’s own notes…
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…
gargoyles at the doors protecting and defending vulnerable hearts I have been examining my relationship to vulnerability lately and challenging myself to be more open and less guarded in my relationships. It can be hard when one is sensitive to be open. Mine is such a tender heart at times! As painful as the hurt…
life has rubbed away every last bit of callous around my heart i am here, defenseless and empty surrendering full up with tears of sorrow and joy forgiving and forgiven opening my heart to the unknown sky
Lover, paint me with your desire! Write your poetry on my flesh– with your teeth. Lover, splash with me in the puddles of life! Explore the landscape of my earth– with your tongue. Lover, play with me with deviant innocence! Write your opus with whispers of song– to my heart. Lover, come to me now…
i have words on my tongue that i want you to find (only you will understand them) there is sweetness buried deep inside waiting for your sophisticated palette the tender places– the ones with thousands of nerves– await your gentlest caress (this one is not about sex) my beloved, when our hearts find each other…