the swirling thoughts.

 

i want to write about how the birds sing even when it rains. i want to invite you in so you can know in an instant and let go of the words and confusion. i want to rest my mind, my heart, until the wind is all that i hear. i want to step inside and see. i want to open up. i want to breathe you inside me until you fill the space. i want to push back until i am cocooned in truth. i want to fill in the cracks with life. i want to sway, eyes closed, until the end. i want to live it. i want to tiptoe into the tulip petals. i want to bring you hope to wear around your heart. i want to listen. i want to grow roots until the fear is gone. i want to remember each word. i want to remember it softly.

this is hope; this is love

my mother's hands; a waiting soft place to land, grow

with each movement

you whisper

your teachings

i surround you

with hope

and know

you are love

(early morning sleepy thoughts on this love thursday)

(moving pictures) postcard from chicago (august 9, 2009)

{front}

{back}

breathe in
breathe out

postcard from chicago (august 8, 2009)

(front)
Windows tiled for miles seen through sunbeamed air you could ring out over the sink.

(back)
unexpected missing
(heart open)
wishing
i knew how
(to tell you)

i just keep going.

postcard from michigan (august 6, 2009)

{front}

{back}

you can look behind you

and own what you see

(all of it)

especially when you find your own reflection

postcard from michigan (august 4, 2009)

{front}
a stack of dusty, tattered-edged rescued postcards wrapped with string that encases whispered missings of long ago...

{back}
a moment to breathe in the quiet
a decision to dance in your life
a belief in you
a bouquet of hope
a smile reflected
a heart open to the world

this is what i wish for you.

postcard from michigan (august 3, 2009)

(front)
Sunshine orange happy susans perfect mountain pose amidst droplets of drink.

(back)
avenue
just
town
quiet
why
hamlet

on the board they went until we ran out of letters and his usual eeyore luck changed as he placed the "x" spelling "ox".

postcard from michigan (august 2, 2009)

(front)
Brown hair in two braids, head tipped back, you can almost hear the laughter as the little girl finds glee standing ankle deep in the midst of the colors and noise and bodies at the beach.

(back)
The rhythm of his breath
The wind winds through oaks
Car whips past, now two
Fan turns turns turns
My foot slips through blue sheets
A voice outside, now two
He turns away from the light
Quiet...
Finding me now
Inhale
Exhale
The rhythm of this life

postcard from michigan (august 1, 2009)

(front)

Sliver of bright burning fuschia sneaks through grey plus white puffy, thick pillows as the lake tosses and trips below.

(back)

The wind pushed through me today as I stood atop the bluff. Pushed and threw me as I watched the gulls float instead of fly even though they pushed to move through; the wind pushed back as they soared in one place. Like me with feet planted, no grounded as I soar with each push and pull, as I float while grounded.

postcard from indiana (july 31, 2009)

{front}

sunbeams dancing through summer-heavy oak leaves dripping from reaching branches

{back}

they say you can never go home

again

but in this moment,

i believe,

you can find yourself

relaxing inside comfort and laughter

and breathing in the unexpected moments

of being the you

you never thought you might be

in this home.