singing bowl
rosewater and tears
fingers pressed on tender skin
the xx
our union
burst of sandalwood
in moment of surrender
candelight
shimmering
a shower of sweat
and whispers of devotion
morning light
“He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who stand and watch” ~Jean-Luc Godard
When I probe into the tangled questions in my heart and examine the underbelly of it all, I feel like I cannot bear to look anymore. I feel like I cannot breathe. Then a friend comes a long and tells me how brave I am and how much I inspire her or how much she…
It is such a misguided notion to believe there is any other place to be but this one– the sweet smell of rain (the droplets falling on the very paper on which I was writing this), surrounded by poetry. A church bell chimes nearby and machines whirrrrrr all around me. The cacophony of seagulls crying…
in bed with thoughts of pleasure dripping deep inside lusting for morning coffee
Very little grows on jagged rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are. You have been stony for too many years. Try something different. Surrender ~Rumi
When I was a child, I used to explore in the forest. Sometimes, I would run across a car with smashed windows. I would pick up the little pieces and keep them in my pockets like treasure. They were treasure to me. Earlier this week, I took the picture above in a parking lot where…