the soft soil of eden….

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Hello Summer just begun and year half done,
large friendly hum of the warm breath of morning,
a freshborn season for loving and squeezing,
and drinking deep of long days turned ripe and jeweled
like the pearly mounds of berries at the farm stand
fresh picked and still mottled with earth

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hello rolling skies and silky rays painting dusk with soft sighs of rest,
lilies and wild things breezing along the roadways
and love songs and light shows riding on the clouds,
cool water splashing fat drops of mercy and tugging the too-hot from me,
joy, and lift and belly laughs,  sweet bath of sunshine and sea,

hello rustle of green and willow and blanket spread beneath the trees,
for soaking and sifting and basking and being
in the places inside where our  hearts are still tending
the sweet, soft soil of eden.

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Really,  I hope this season is a hello to restoration
in every way your heart is wilding for,
some fresh sweet freedom in your wanting-spacious places.
Yeah,  I hope Summer splashes you good:)

“Hello,  sun in my face,
hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields….”
-Mary Oliver

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I’ve got 5 happy little packages wrapped and ready
for the 5 names I drew
(I wish I could send one to each of you….will offer another giveaway soon with Ripplesongs July)
Please message me with your addresses, dears!
~Amanda Fall,  Simone,  Wanda,  Lynn Wilkinson,  and Anita.
Love and smooches all around.

 

A Christmas hush….

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I’ve listened for  it since I was little,
the hush that seems to fall like snow
these days before Christmas,
a  holy quiet
that hovers heavy
sweet and thick,
even in the bustle,

the universe holding her breath
in wonder.

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I’m slipping into the quiet
for a long soak,
making space to bask
and awe
and holding close to heart for each of you
love
and Christmas hope.

I'll see you back again before the new year.
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 "How silently,  how silently
the wondrous gift is given...."

-O Little Town of Bethlehem

sweet seasons on my mind

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I’ve been up in the trees
pruning,  p—-r—-u—-n—-i—-n—-g,  prooooooooo – ning
and I won’t bore you with how sore I am
and tired
and I’ve let too much time slip by
without even a word to you
and we can’t have that
because I miss you too hard

So let me just stick my head in the  door
and hand you these flowers I plucked quick
while no one was looking
(at least I think no one saw….there are plenty
enough and they won’t miss these few)
and tell you how much big honking hope I have
heaped up in my heart
for you

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because can I just say that your song is a beauty,
unique and priceless,
and we need it,
so drop on down past the breakers
into the deep still waters inside
waiting there beneath the waves
like a secret garden
that opens to let you in safe from the noise.

Your song burns bright in there
and you’re safe to sing
and it’s rest and peace to your soul.

Yep,  there is a secret garden inside your heart
where you sing your truest songs.
I can hear yours and it’s gorgeous.

Sing a little louder if you want.

 

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“Talkin’ bout sweet seasons on my mind
Sure does appeal to me
you know we can get there easily
just like a sailboat a-sailin’ on the sea”

-Carole King