 Perhaps you are humming? Still, I know you are happy here in this vivid green forest. Exploring on your own, past ancient stones and groves, you found this quiet glade. You know, even here, you are not without guides, for the stars will stay close. In the distance you hear a dancing brook, a calming reminder that play is welcome. Sometimes, you hum. Sometimes, you sing. Sometimes, you simply listen to the music around you. a poem about chosen family. a hug on the inside,
a feeling so free, found upon my first visit to this inland sea. here, one need not always be silent or the most noisy, time is made for everyone – ah, intentionality! gatherings with love and humility, with listening ears for each person’s voice and story. I have risen above thinking your heart
worthy of my thoughts - your outdated image of me can never contain truth because you call stagnation comfort. I have risen above sharing darkness with you; the sun moves with a predictability and tenderness you cannot muster, during day or night. I have risen above accepting your hands as worthy of being called safe; I have learned how it should feel - when hands touch with love. Green leaves trembling in the wind, flashing pink, yellow, and thorns, smiling at how resilient we had become. Roots entwined with the fate of those rocks, our lumps of enduring granite. We knew we belonged there. Flashing pink, yellow, and thorns, smiling with sea spraying and sun sparkling in our eyes, on our shells, and green leaves trembling in the wind. We all were roses. |
