Poetry

Worthy

We don’t have to convince the world

that we are worthy

of their love hearts.

We only have to convince ourselves

that we are worthy

of our own.

woman smiling
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A Blog a Day in May

The Soft Girl and The Book

The brownie is delicious. The coffee is fine.

And, for the first time in a good little while, I am at a cafe, sinking into a booth seat, quietly reflecting on the peace of it all.

I’m the soft girl today. She’s the part of me that I choose—quite fiercely so—because the soft girl is anything but soft. She’s gentle and kind, and yet she’s capable and strong. And she’s safe, the part of me that feels most like ‘home’.

She made me buy a book, today, the soft girl did. It’s beautiful. A paperback, with a silvery-white cover and the title: Women Who Run With The Wolves: Contacting the Power of The Wild Woman, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. A quote from Maya Angelou decorates the bottom. It says: ‘Everyone who can read should read this book.’

The book had whispered to me from the shelf—or, perhaps the soft girl had whispered me to it, I can’t be entirely certain. And even though it was only visible via the spine, I plucked it quickly from its little cave and read the blurb.

I wasn’t going to buy a book. It wasn’t on my radar, not at all. But as soon as I read what this beautiful, silvery book was about…the soft girl touched me and began whispering me her careful words: ‘This book will change your life.’

So.

I bought it. It sits beside me, in my laptop bag, waiting for me to breathe it in— which I will do tonight, as soon as I have found a cup of steaming tea and a nice big blanket.

I suppose it might be a wonderful book.

And, if it is, if the whispers of the soft girl were true in all their wistfully tender encouragement…my life is about to change.

I’d imagine that might be a very nice thing.

potted succulent plants on the bookshelf
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A Blog a Day in May

Not Like The Others

There is a little girl

in me

who is trying to be

a big kid

just like the others.

Just like the others.

One day,

I think,

she’ll learn to be

happy

with just ‘being me.’

However different.

However ‘not like the others.’

green manicure art close up photo
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Poetry

Coming Home

Let this heart I wear

on my sleeve

draw all of its letters in the sand…

not just the ones I think

you

will like me for.

person wearing red socks walking on sand

And in that sand, let there be

scribbles of the past, the present,

and the future;

a million perfect letters

tumbling all about my day

teaching me,

quite slowly,

just who it is I am meant to be.

beach coast island landscape

I am no longer searching

for anything, or anyone.

Somehow

I just know.

I’ve found the thing

I never knew I needed to find.

A tiny home at the edge of my sleeve.

photo of person holding multicolored heart decor