Take a moment to sit with me
Open the hope chest of your heart
Pour over the beauty you cherish
Nourish yourself with soft memories
Peek at the secrets held within
Have you ever shared your secret self?
Has anyone earned your trust?
Vulnerable as it is, a roiling ocean of fear
There is a soft sense of safety that comes of trust
Walking barefoot on warm spring grass
Butterfly glimpsed dancing in sunlight
The embrace of one dearly loved
Open your heart to trust little one
The reward is to risk being treasured
Well, I have been absent. Making serious changes in my life. More about that later, when I am ready. But it is my WordPress anniversary today and I have one thing, well two things or maybe three, to share. The first is a quote from the talented poet Shane Koyczan:
“If your heart is broken, make art from the pieces.”
Sunset, a skylark dances around my house. I’ve not seen her before; she is welcome visitor to my garden. Swooping with such grace and purpose, I know she hunts as she plays. Beauty in her silent dives that gather food to her wings. Elegance in her weaving nearly touching my head, she warbles a sweet farewell. Her gift of calm saturates me as I glide into evening.
Graceful navigation of the maelstrom of life can leave one worn and in need of deep nourishment. Grace can wane, calm can be disrupted but love can buoy us through the storm. When that love is touched with pain a conundrum arises; if you open your heart there is unbelievable pain but if you close your heart the pain is still unbearable and darkness worries sharp and poisonous talons into your flesh. This is not my way but I was tempted, sorely tempted, this week to deny my love, flee from grace and let my calm be damned. I came back. And when I did the maelstrom settled as I blazed with love.
Love, unthinkable really to turn from such a gift.
She walks this formidable earth trembling with humility of beauty. She carries herself softly across earth’s surface pouring her self into each step. Within her heart she seeks only presence of mind, empathy and compassion. Something in her gentle spirit calms the raging. She is a balm that soothes, her voice a lullaby, her touch otherworldly. Where she traverses calm follows in the hearts of men and women. Fearless she withstands the violence of words and gestures, protagonist’s fall to silence, bewildered, changed. Is it the grace of God within a frail fallen woman? One who has come to accept that people trust her, long to whisper their secrets to her eyes shining and fear let loose. Is it a trick of the Fae blood she teases runs in her veins? The how insignificant, important is the realisation she should cherish and evoke this trick of grace with care, with reverence as she tames the wildest of men.