Poetry

Gentle

I try to be gentle with the girl inside me.

She is imperfect.

She hurts, and she hurts others

as she tries her best to be.

She thinks and she thinks,

and she doesn’t think enough

until something in the air breaks

and tells her,

‘Hush. Be kind to the one that matters most in your world.’

And so I try to listen to the air as it crackles.

And so I surrender

as I wait for my sunflower to bloom.

photo of woman in black dress standing on sunflower field
Photo by Noelle Otto on Pexels.com

 

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A Blog a Day in May

Deep Diving: The Experiment

This is a little experiment where I will write. And I will not stop. Until I feel it’s time. Time, it’s an abstract concept, don’t you think? It’s not of the world, but also, it is. In an odd kind of way.

Life.

What is life, I often wonder. It’s the little things taken for granted. It’s the flowers we walk past every day, without looking. It’s me. It’s you. It’s us. It’s them. All of us living in a world where everyone else is so easily wrong. All of us looking for something more. Better. Free-er. Right-er.

A little bit lost, most of us. A little bit bamboozled. Unsure. Unsure and beautiful. Unsure and strange. Unsure and almost there, but never quite there because ‘there’ will never be a place we can find on a map. And if we do happen to find it, we don’t want it anymore because ‘there’ always looks better from ‘here’.

Nothing’s certain. Nothing’s true. Nothing’s right, nothing can be. Ever. Not when all our eyes are made from different shades of wonder. Different shades of serious. Different shades of true.

But one thing I do know is this. Life is beautiful. Precious. Mine. Yours. Ours. It’s safe and it’s unsafe and isn’t that the point? Isn’t that the beautiful part? The not knowing. The being here, the never really knowing where ‘here’ is?

This was a little experiment where I wrote.

A little experiment that will go on. And on. And on.

All the days of my deep-diving- human-life.

think outside of the box
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Life

The Power of a Moment

I’ll never underestimate the power of a moment.

In my world, a moment is never just a moment.

A moment is a marvel.

A step before a jump.

A promise of something new and wonderful to keep—

If I choose to keep it, that is.

adult backpack blur business
Photo by Fabrizio Verrecchia on Pexels.com

A moment— in my world— is a time to begin again.

A chance to let ‘no’ become ‘yes’.

A chance to let ‘yes’ become ‘hells to the absolute no’.

You know them, don’t you? Moments?

The split seconds of life that we can choose to take, or leave?

The gifts that give as much as we ask them to, depending on how open we are to receiving them?

I do love a good moment.

I do love a good bit of marvelous and new.

woman in gray cardigan giving white gift box
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

 

 

 

 

 

Life

Alone

Sometimes, I feel alone.

Even when I’m surrounded by people…

I’m not really.

I’m alone, drifting in a rose coloured world of wonder.

I’m not sad about it— feeling alone, that is.

It’s a beautiful place, this world I live in.

I’m just saying:

The world of a dreamy, wide-open soul is sometimes lonely.

Wonderous.

But lonely.

In this world, I sometimes feel like a teeny tiny sailboat trying to float in an ocean of mud and I wonder: ‘Where are the other boats like me?’

Maybe one day I’ll find them.

Maybe one day there’ll be more boats like me.

Maybe.

One day.

photo of people on rowboat during sunset
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com