truth in the tremble….

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There’s been a cold wind blowing,
a shivery ache
that gnaws through some hope
and teases  my heart why don’t you close up
tight like a fist and numb that pain down.

But I don’t want to miss even love wrapped in sorrow
in this messy business of living
and walk around like a woman without hope
because that would be a lie
and living true is where the real magic swirls
miracles and mystery
like chunks of lime
and honey in my tea.

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So I open wide,
stretching awake to the sweetest dream
as I drop down into the delicious presence
of heaven breathing right inside my belly
and my mind sits down hard so my heart can soar
as I put my head down on the floor
and let
hope
be.

~it isn’t what it seems,
this in-between,
even when it frays like rope in weather;
becoming can be a jumble,
sometimes an uphill dribble
so lean in,
open wide
and let hope sing.

 

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This post is about some mama-longing in my heart
that feels like winter-weary waiting
for the Spring.
Are you in a place like that,  too?
Hope and patience,  baby.
The brightest blooms
have a “suddenly” way about them.

“You are the fire that burns out my cold
you’re the warm light in this winter-weary soul…”

-just a song i’m singing

gifts from a gingko grove….

I’ve come to be surrounded by the gingkos,
to let deep
amber
turning
overtake me.


I watch and wait with pen and camera,
hushed by bountiful brilliance,
these late bloomers
gone so quickly green to golden,
brushing  anxious tangles from my mind with cheery bristles,
stirring hope
for the late bloomers that I love,
that I am.

As I flutter in this generous grove,
listening to balmy quiet,
tears unstuff themselves
and trickle down,
tired and sweet.

Yes,  I still ache over stuck places
where I’m longing for lift
for my lovies,
for me

…but LOOK,  my soul,  at this grove just yesterday green!
That is the way with gingkos.
And maybe,  perhaps,  with wings.


(Can you believe this place? 
It’s  about a mile from my house at an intersection…..each corner a grove of gingkos.
  Their leaves are a very plain green until,  almost overnight,  they turn a gorgeous bright yellow.  
They’re the late bloomers,  the last to turn and show their splendor. 
  And it’s a FEAST when they do…spectacular! )