When silence boils over and tears catch fire…..

  Sometimes the grief sits so low in my voice that I can only lift one finger slow to say thanks and I must, must let it twitch breath enough into the heavy until my heart starts to rise to meet the moment so that my life, doesn’t close down in a silence that can…

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Holding space for air….

There is a place in each moment, a soft space for breath to unfold slow and deep and safe, where rest enough waits like a tall glass of lay-me-down and  whispers welcome to every lift and settle of my heart. And there is a stream there, a place for tired soul to go bare, glimmering easy songs of…

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