last night,
we spoke of ragas
(and how they find their way to the end)
we spoke of not being right
(and the right to just be)
we spoke of care and not judging the lost ones
(and i trusted you a little more)
today,
the camellias are blooming soft and pink
(opening to the sun)
One Song by Rumi Every war and every conflict between human beings has happened because of some disagreement about names. It is such an unnecessary foolishness, because just beyond the arguing there is a long table of companionship set and waiting for us to sit down. What is praised is one, so the praise is…
![bricolage project day 17 [joy!]](https://kymberleedellaluce.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/1445112017771.jpg)
The word of the day is joy! from my well-loved copy of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. Today’s bricolage is a little video from a walk I took with my older daughter today. I love the way the water in the creek has a kind of woven, herringbone pattern. She and I sat and…
rosemary for remembrance roots loose and untangled ready to be planted in fertile soil bringing forth what came before and creating something new
I have learned that when people are determined to see me through a dark lens, they won’t be talked out of it. I have, however, learned that it’s their lens not my truth. That’s a good feeling.
sometimes, when i am most despondent when i feel i have betrayed or been betrayed too many times to count (or handle)– just then when i doubt myself my wisdom my power my grace (my existence)– right then wings aflutter an angel comes (in myriad forms) bringing a reflection of my wholeness my beauty my…
vulnerability soft folds (ripped open) revealing deep slash bound peer into darkness (infinite landscape) fractal wound binding like a river winding through a canyon he saw all worlds contained we both saw Her here. now. Ekphrastic poem inspired by the Hana Hamplová: Meditations on Paper exhibit at The Frye Art Museum. I saw it once, alone,…