I might feel sad, that like these leaves— I’ll fall for you and fall again. But falling means I’m still alive Yes, falling means I’m still alive.
I don’t hate you, not at all. In fact we need each other. But you– You don’t understand my role in it all. You just keep reaching for my light, Nourished by my boundless energy: How I can dance on paper walls And fill a room Until it’s bursting at the seams with brightness. Your… Continue reading Photosynthesis.
Three-hundred and sixty odd days ago They told me I wouldn’t see you again. I tried to look back, Recapitulate the last time I saw you But couldn’t find the memory: I couldn’t rub away the layer of film over the dirty lens of life to reach you on the other side. Life does that: Pulls… Continue reading 6.19.16: Daniel
Writing Challenge Day 2: Speak with Nature Saturday Today Havarti and I went down to the pond. I found a quiet spot to sit. Havarti talked to the bumblebees and the wildflowers. I sat with my sacred little things, fresh air permeating my lungs. Earth. Fire. Air. Water. As I sat there in the stillness, two dragonflies… Continue reading Speak with Nature Saturday—Dragonflies and Sacred Things
I have a confession to make.
I’ve been denying myself joy, making excuses, and rationalizing it. Do you do that too?
Recently I wrote about letting go of what doesn’t serve you, and I’m breaking the cycle. Now.