queen of cups
trickling tributaries
raging rivers
bipolar bifurcations
she,
discerning
choosing
surrendering
choosing life
choosing love
neither predator
nor prey
(finally!)
an open vessel–
at once overflowing
and empty
ready to fill
and be filled
Living inside the braided folds just for today.Tangled roots whisper; I can’t hear what they say. Memories are a splinter in the eye.Promises broken become calcified naïveté. Black Swan, slippery like Mercury—haunting.(A life lived well is not a parley.) Water ceasing to hydrate what is crumbling.Silt becomes an urn for ashes someday. Days are shorter…
Precious moments of grace today: A homemade flower from my girl. A warm hug and deeply sincere “I love you” from my other girl. Warm wishes and thoughts from friends. A call from mom to check in and tell me she loves me. Time to write. Time to breathe. Making homemade soup and corn muffins…
I’m realizing that I am always pushing against something in my life. It’s either my nature or some kind of curse but it’s real for me. One thing I know for sure is that I wasn’t put on this earth to fit into someone’s little box. I don’t fit well into small boxes. I like…
“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…