Prickles and portals and play it again….

Sometimes into life’s overwhelm come soft days
so thick with grace
that the volume gets turned up
on your dreams
so loud that it drowns out some fear,
shaking dance back into your feet
until your heart starts taking on hope
like a ship sinking fast in a sea of fresh mercy
as heaven storms down light so fierce
that it swallows up the dark.

When you’re not there right now,
when all you can feel is the cave you crawled in
bone tired and seeking shelter
and the gloom works it’s way on your soul
and you’re hungry for good air and tall sky
but you feel as weak and small as the yelp
that gets stuck in the dry of your voice
( I’ve known this place)

Can I remind you,  friend,  that it’s there still,
that place where darkness got sliced until the light spilled in;
still there waiting with the warm buttery peace of something realer
than what you can see,
waiting to wrap you again in that firm strong love
that breathes courage
back into all your despairing places.

It’s there now waiting and you can go there still
along the backroads of your mind;
where maybe even as a child
you felt it sweet in someplace truthful and gentle
and it’s there still like a portal
where you feel free and profoundly okay.

You are brave enough to lean on in;
Open wide and go again
to that door that is uniquely gift to you,
where you step into the undriven purpose
of being welcome and known and affirmed with great affection.

Go stand in that place and let love sing down her songs over you again.
You belong,
the starry heavens whisper.
You belong.

“Fear is the cheapest room in the house.
I would like to see you living in better conditions.”
– Hafiz

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
“again”

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.

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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.

Hear?
Listen again.

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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)