I’ll remember this winter
when I’m old I believe,
will remember the changing tide and slow receding
of the rattle and roar of my own striving,
as surrender threw open some windows
to waves I never saw coming
and in a feeling kind of way I heard it,
the deep down sound of my water breaking
and the building rumble of a tugging squeeze
giving birth to changing season in me
It’s been a soft time in a hard place
and I’m riding the contractions,
sometimes scary fierce and others playful wild
and resting when the swells are glassy,
trusting the Love that holds the sea,
and yielding vulnerable as it’s shifting me.
And I won’t shut myself to winter till she’s done,
won’t shoo and hurry her dormant way,
won’t despise it how she slows and stills
until her work is yes in me.
I’ll remember this one when I’m old,
and smile grateful tears for the pressure that’s making
some prints on my life
that I wouldn’t have wanted to miss.
Deeper in love with the oceans that hold me,
I’m coming alive to my heart.
“The woman had laughed the hard times
Hey friend, I wrestled a bit over this….whether to just post these images and write down some sweet stuff about winter and how it’s still pretty
and almost over and just hang on
whether to dive into the deep end of what I’ve been living
and splash around and try to put together words that make sense of it.
Hope it doesn’t give you a headache:)