stronger in the showing up….

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I keep showing up,
carving out the space and time
to rest my eyes on the sky
while the sun shimmers low on the horizon,
suspended like a breath,
then exhales into the night,

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keep being wowed by how quickly it happens,
how easy to  slip right by
if I just did this one more thing quick first;
like a whisper in a crowded room
I could miss  it in the scurry
because life is sweeping past
and if you don’t kneel down and put your hand into the river
you may not recognize.

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And I have sometimes drawn back from the living
because I feel so much,
sometimes feel it all too much,
and the pain can make me flinch and close down and curl up tight inside
for just a little while
and as  I watch all these ordinary little whiles fill up
with so much that I wouldn’t want to miss,
bits I’ve mostly missed my whole life long,
it shakes me awake to the choices I hold

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and as each evening I walk back to my car
rubbing the  sunspots from my eyes so I can drive home,
I feel stronger in the showing up,
as if all of this light is infusing my choosing
as these days, they quickly go by.

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“You can change or stay the same.
There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or worst of it. I hope you make the best of it.  I hope you see things that startle you.  I hope you feel things you’ve never felt before.
I hope you meet people with a different point of view.  I hope you live a life you’re proud of.  If you find that you’re not,  I hope you have the courage to start all over again.”
-Eric Roth,
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button screenplay

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