again with the hope….

freak flag
There’s a fierce little word fluttering around in my heart
and I want to bring it to you like a gift I’d leave at your door
in an old blue bottle that I bought  for a dime,
washed of decades of dust and disappointment,
and filled with fresh water and a single surprising flower
whispering one single word

because sometimes hope needs to be recycled,  too,

and I want you to notice it in your lovely wings,
the divine quiver pulsing softly,
calling gently,
crying out,  dear braveheart,
dare again.


That thing you wished,  once upon a time
….wished it so hard it hurt?
wish it again.
knock and ask and call again,
imagine again,
dream again,
dig and plant and believe again

Open again to the flickers of firsts,
soften again to possibility,
because it’s the stuff that bliss is made of
to let your heart go wilding for it’s true song.

I’m hearing it strong in the whispering winds,
defy the disappointment,
Go again.

Listen again.

My mama always said life was  like a box of chocolates.
You never know what you’re gonna get.”
-Forrest Gump

The winner of the drawing for my little monthly zine,  Ripplesongs July
(giving me SO much joy,  this)
is Michele Bergh,
webmaster extraordinaire:)
Package on it’s way,  dear one!

Leave a comment and I’ll pull another name
from another hat
next week
(I love this stuff)

because the blooming fields….

Because I want to pour you out a river of breeze,
to gather you a bouquet of sweet,  soft lay-me-down moments
and hold this sense of relish like a seashell to your ear
so you can hear the whispers in your wounds
because I think maybe that it’s the sound
that healing makes,


because I feel it so strong inside that you are the priceless art,
more beautiful by design than sea or sunset or gossamer wings,
that there is precious little balm to waste in the hard flee of time
and I choose to share the salve I find
because I know that living can stone you sudden till your heart rattles pieces
and the quiet can be hard to come by


and when you find a well that keeps on giving
your heart stretches out wide and thumps love so stretchy
it reaches and offers and speaks
and you wanna share the shimmer from the waves you’re riding,
the blooming in your field of dreams.

This is mine:  please help yourself to as much as you like,
with love:)


My Ripplesongs July is available now in my little etsy shop
I offer it up with love:)

(and will draw a name Friday from the comments on this post
to give one away!)

“But to be what I am,
to live what I was meant to live,
to want to sound like no one else,
to yield to the blossoms dictated to my heart,
this is what I want
and this  surely cannot be arrogance.”

got to be free….

To be free…..this is the thing,
top of my list……even love needs freedom
to thrive,
freedom to grow my own garden,
learn from my own mistakes,
choose my own path,
decide in my own heart how I worship, build a family,
make a life and a living,
to say my own strong “no’s” and grin my very own yeses,


to write and sing and paint and dance
and pickle and pour and pray and chance
and to choose my own pace about it,
not taking on hurry or rush or shove or push,
not swallowing one drop of ridicule because of my gimpy places,
but to bask in the light beautiful along the way,
all along the way,

because I’m free to choose,
to relax into the timing of Love
and take joy in this journey
that is mine.

Really,  don’t let the beauty of this life get away from you.

Lifting my heart to toast every drop of freedom
we are born for.

“Don’t shrink.
Don’t puff up.
Just stand your sacred ground.”
-Brene’ Brown

(and,  hey,  I really want to write you back when you leave comments.  I don’t get e-mails anymore,
since my blog changed a bit,  so I’m gonna try writing a reply right at the end of each comment.
Never done that before.  Not sure if you’ll ever get them….just wanting to stay connected.)

the soft soil of eden….


Hello Summer just begun and year half done,
large friendly hum of the warm breath of morning,
a freshborn season for loving and squeezing,
and drinking deep of long days turned ripe and jeweled
like the pearly mounds of berries at the farm stand
fresh picked and still mottled with earth


hello rolling skies and silky rays painting dusk with soft sighs of rest,
lilies and wild things breezing along the roadways
and love songs and light shows riding on the clouds,
cool water splashing fat drops of mercy and tugging the too-hot from me,
joy, and lift and belly laughs,  sweet bath of sunshine and sea,

hello rustle of green and willow and blanket spread beneath the trees,
for soaking and sifting and basking and being
in the places inside where our  hearts are still tending
the sweet, soft soil of eden.


Really,  I hope this season is a hello to restoration
in every way your heart is wilding for,
some fresh sweet freedom in your wanting-spacious places.
Yeah,  I hope Summer splashes you good:)

“Hello,  sun in my face,
hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields….”
-Mary Oliver


I’ve got 5 happy little packages wrapped and ready
for the 5 names I drew
(I wish I could send one to each of you….will offer another giveaway soon with Ripplesongs July)
Please message me with your addresses, dears!
~Amanda Fall,  Simone,  Wanda,  Lynn Wilkinson,  and Anita.
Love and smooches all around.


Ripplesong dreams….


When I was a little girl I wanted to grow up to be a singer
and a florist (grin),
someone who made songs and flung them to the stars,
and grew flowers and filled the earth with beauty and blossom.
A singing farmer:)
As I’ve grown up and gotten busy with the messy business of life,
my songs and bouquets slide sifted into everydayness
and the love I want to sprinkle goes often tucked away in silent gifts
I send down the river with an open-handed prayer.
I like it that way.

But I’ve also danced with bookish dreams,
of sharing my heart on sweet-smelling paper
with anyone who wanted to have and hold
and diving in I’ve wrestled with how to do it true,
in a way that cultivates soft  buttery peace in the living, breathing place inside
and feels real to the very heart of me,
honest like a just picked bouquet of bloomers still dripping with dew
and poured out with wild abandon,


~true in the vivid color that I love
… speaks a language that is super-expensive to print and I want it,
need it strong like my tea,
pungent like my herbs,  rich like my chocolate
and bright like the sun.
Whiskey in a teacup:)

~true to my love for supporting local
…..I don’t want to send my stuff across oceans to print
when the friendly faces who walk their dogs,
ride their bikes and buy their groceries where I live
need their jobs and do them well
right here where I keep shop.

~true to my paper-love
….stock that’s  thick and crisp enough to paste into journal or prop onto windowsill
or tuck by bits and pieces into notes for passing

~true to my love for seasons….I think in season and cycle
and love to share just plucked goodness,  like a meal I would serve you at
my  table,  sliced up juicy with the bounty of each month’s harvest.

~and true because it’s a present I get to make and give new,  over and over again
and that makes me ridiculously glad:)
I’m wired that way;  it lights me up.
There’s just no accounting for what gives a person crazy joy;)


I have the first batch of these bright bouquets up for sale
in my Ripplespeak etsy shop
Ripplesongs June:)
I want to give some away to you,  oh please:)
Just leave me a comment and I’ll draw some names next week…..5 shining names:)

(can you tell how wide I’m grinning here?)

“….but we can do small things with great love.”
-Mother Teresa