late summer haiku
poppy seeds scatter to soil
illusions shattered
dead rose petals fall softly
poppy seeds scatter to soil
illusions shattered
dead rose petals fall softly
Purple can be the color of mourning
And the color of the irises that I once planted in my mother’s garden.
“I am he that aches with amorous love; Does the earth gravitate? does not all matter, aching, attract all matter? So the body of me to all I meet or know.” ~Walt Whitman Dear Uncle Walt, I am writing for your guidance. We seem to have the same Love DNA so thought perhaps you could…
pre·cious /ˈprɛʃəs/ [presh-uhs] –adjective 1. of high price or great value; very valuable or costly: precious metals. 2. highly esteemed for some spiritual, nonmaterial, or moral quality: precious memories. 3. dear; beloved: a precious child. 4. affectedly or excessively delicate, refined, or nice: precious manners. 5. a dearly beloved person; darling. Yes, I am. But…
In this episode, I reveal some inspirations and talk about the value of poetry as protest, the worth of women and mothers, and how the myths of Henry David Thoreau and Adam Smith support cultural gaslighting.
One thing I know for sure is I am all done courting longing. What is mine is coming to me. What is not has fallen away. I bless this.
The hardest thing about ending a relationship (or two)(or three…) is finding a place for that person in your life and dealing with their conflict about where to put you in theirs. I have much love in my heart for people. It doesn’t just go away because a relationship has been reconfigured into something else….