I’ve been flummoxed, wanting to offer you a fresh bouquet
from the gardens I’ve been tending,
about watery melons and milk thistle tea,
wildflower honey and coppertone on a breeze.
It meets some sort of primal need in me to create beauty with words
and pictures, to share the light streaming in from my window
and lean my shoulder playful into yours,
To be glad about it together….this is joy to me.
But there’s sludge in my soul from holding quiet so long
a story i’m living
that feels so swollen inside that my voice has gotten heavy
and i feel it’s time to try and tell it true,
to free what needs to flow on through me
because there is nothing more lonely than secrets that metastisize
until you’re silent where your heart used to sing.
I wrestled with starting a new blog, just for the telling.
So no one could watch.
Maybe slide this story out there faceless
because, I tell you, the shame that washes over me still,
even after doing the work for what seems like forever,
fighting to hold onto the truth when my ground is hard shaken,
well it can roll me until I’m thrashing for air.
But I’m taking the Summer to share.
Week by week. One deep breath at a time.
Because it’s the garden that I’ve got.
And real life is the most beautiful thing that I know.
Even when you can’t wrap it up tidy and sweet:)
If you’re feeling it, come back to share the road.
If you’d rather not, i so understand.
Either way I wish you beauty, bounty and breakthrough
in all of your ways.
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”