the days were golden…

just this,  dear friend,
from my heart to yours.

 the words didn’t find me this week
but I wanted to paint you joy

and to share the way
the last of the zinnias hold the sun
soft and close
showing us how
to soak it in
for the cold,  gray days to come

and just look at all this gold
~see how rich we are?

~and brave,
we’re braver than we know.

October has pounded on me hard
so  I’m few of words
but richer  in love
and braver than before.

“Love is vivid.  I never wanted the pale version.
Love is full strength.  I never wanted the diluted version.
I never shied away from love’s hugeness
but I had no idea that love could be as reliable as the sun.”
-Jeanette Winterson

linking up with some gorgeous orangeness
at
lorik’s luscious
LorikArt

my wild and precious yes…

Dear God,

I heard the shouted “no!”s and flinched inside
where you hold and heal me still
and I think it get it,
this collective wound
that rages against the “you” we’ve painted
with our broken down lives
and it smells like puke, the hurt we do
and chills my spine,
that sound of windows breaking
to let the bad air out.

Cause you don’t smell like that,
you who are breath and sky and sea to me,
and hope and wildflowers and freedom to be
and I’m pretty sure of all beings
the most misunderstood
and judged false by blind pain,

your poetry and parables calculated and pinched
until we see you as the worst
of what we are
….as if we could ever know an artist’s heart
with a scalpel
or dissect a living thing
to poke pure creative genius
until we understand.

I likely know less than I think I do
but I want my life  space to  let you be you
in that same brave way you let us choose to love
or leave you alone.

My soul rests easy
in how secure you seem,
not power-tripping or  punishing or pushy
like the posters we paste
on political walls.

And I’m grateful how you set my heart
to twirling
and spatter flecks and speckles of  honest love
and awe
I throw my life open wide
with welcome,
I want you
~  my  one
wild and precious yes.

“Tell me,  what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”
-Mary Oliver