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.”
Rise with the breath of love, let go harbored pain as loves softness enters your all. For you, you only is this moment of grace, rise from the famine of desert to feast on love. The burbling song of loves font moves within you, ceaselessly. Feel the beauty of love cascade within the vessel of your skin; the organ that absorbs touch and contains your essence is very wise. Thank the form that houses you for it’s service day in, day out; providing an abode for your thoughts to dwell and ignite within your unique mind, rivers of blood for emotion to travel and excite, a home for your vast and divine soul. Open your eyes to the astonishing beauty of you, the ravishing miracle that exists within you alone. Bathe in this glory, accept the gift of grace and cherish it always.
This stunning image is uncredited; if anyone knows where it originates from I would be grateful to be able to credit it…
Yesterday my son and I swapped his bedroom space and my home office space. There was a huge storm raging outside as we moved furniture and spring cleaned in the wrong season. With everything carefully placed, the cobwebs dusted and a change of art works on our walls; both of us found we were far more productive last night in our evening’s creative pursuits. He was building the architecture of an online world and I building the architecture of my current fantasy world. My flow was effortless and satisfying. With full time work, my son and my tango passion I find I have to be disciplined with my writing to keep my inspiration encouraged and vital. I hadn’t realised that my office, which doubles as an occasional spare room, had become ‘cluttered’ and this was affecting my writing flow. Everyday my minimum expectation is 500 words toward my novel (more is great but I am content if I achieve 500 a day). Last night I put in an easy 2000 plus played about with a few other random bits and pieces that will end up posted here.
Today everyone seems to be a state of post storm bliss… all that gale force wind and heavy driving rain has left the world sparkling and refreshed, the sun is out and everyone is smiling. At lunch time I walked through my favourite park to, literally, smell the roses in bloom. This is a park I remember visiting with my mother when I would have been just two years old. The young ones were drawn to me today, I met several, one after another, who all caught my eyes searching them deeply, for a moment it seemed our souls touched then they beamed at me and greeted me jubilantly with their happy little voices. Ah, what a wonderful day with magic heavy in the air. My heart is very content.
My soul dove, eyes wide open, fearless from cliff of doubt to find truth had changed between when climb began to the fall. Gravity cannot be defied regardless of fervent wish. I dove embracing spirit of a beloved, with understanding long craved, but fell alone. Nothing has changed but a sweet glimpse of possibility. Courage waxes and wanes, ‘love’ waxes and wanes but the self is, mutable yes, yet constant companion. I can never be alone in my own company. Offering tears to the sweet sunset I reach for the deeper ‘Love’, beloved that will never be lost. Some of us are meant to be alone with our spirit. A lone life of service, of love and beauty…
Today I was given a new artwork. One of my oldest friends made me a street sign, to be exact a ‘hazard’ sign it reads: ‘SURRENDER’. Do they know how true this is? The irony makes me cry and smile at the same time. Had I known before, would I change who I am? Not a chance.
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.
Trace my soul with your eyes and my heart with your mind. Touch my thoughts with your love and my skin with your breath. Feel my blood song, my hearts percussion. My breathy longing, my deep ache, my tender musing, gifts born of your embrace. My soft whimper, my moistened lips, my heated tendrils, offerings for you to claim.