days of laughing sky…

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If I had a day that I could gift you
it would be one of  spacious laughing sky
lit by love so bright and tender and easy
that it fills you like a song
that you’ve been thirsty to hear,

a whole pool of it pressing firm and kind against your ache
till the knot of it comes untethered
and your tears run clear till they turn
to the sweet sound that healing makes
when it blossoms deep inside,

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the kind of sky that pulls the troubled
from your heart
with every sip your eyes take
so that you feel it down inside
that you’re wanted,  welcome,
waited for with a knowing hope that enjoys your process,
this ruthless patience hovering over your unique unfolding
with fierce affection
(you’re right on time,  m’dear)

and smiling,  nods and understands,
“see here,  brightwing,  how even in your process
you’re my shining star and there is absolutely nothing
that you have to do or get right or sort or fix or tweak
so that it’s good.

I’m smitten,  all the love of the universe,
with you.”

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If you look up right now,
I imagine you can hear
it whispered in the breeze
just exactly where you are.
Hear?

“If you must err,  do so on the side of audacity.”
-Sue Monk Kidd

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