Sweetness still unwritten…..

journal blog
Life found me crying over yesterday
and when I uncurled my fists and let her take my hand,
gentle voice speaking tender over the sorry and ache,
I heard “regret is trust running backwards”
and so I turned forward into the soft breath of today
and let the leaves whisper their stories
and nuzzle my dreams out of layaway

and I hold them warm against fresh stretch marks
on this hungry heart of mine,
all this sweet buttery hope churned up solid and soothing
and I plop right down into the here and now
like a carefree toddler in the sand
and let the loving grin of this present moment
disarm the missing in all that I’ve missed

hearty blog

No,  I’m not eyes squeezed shut
to sands swept away by river time;
I’m opening wider still
to the lovely of nexts,
to hovering fresh over wallflower dreams,
brand new songs and fledgling wings.

dear today

 “Drench yourself in words unspoken,
live your life with arms wide open,
today is where your book begins,
the rest is still unwritten.”
-Natasha Bedingfield

waterbreak winter…

I’ll remember this winter
when I’m old  I believe,
will remember the changing tide and slow receding
of the rattle and roar of my own striving,
as  surrender threw open some windows
to waves I never saw coming
and in a feeling kind of way I heard it,
the deep down sound of my water breaking
and the building rumble of a tugging squeeze
giving birth to changing season in me

It’s been a soft time in a hard place
and I’m riding the  contractions,
sometimes scary fierce and others playful wild
and resting when the swells are glassy,
trusting the Love that holds the  sea,
and yielding vulnerable as it’s shifting me.


And I won’t shut myself to winter till she’s done,
won’t shoo and hurry her dormant way,
won’t despise it how she slows and stills
until her work is yes in me.

I’ll remember this one when I’m old,
and smile grateful tears for the pressure that’s making
some prints on my life
that I wouldn’t have wanted to miss.
Deeper in love with the oceans that hold me,
I’m coming alive to my heart.


“The woman had laughed the hard times
into wine.”
-Ann Voskamp

Hey friend,  I wrestled a bit over this….whether to just post these images and write down some sweet stuff about winter and how it’s still pretty
and almost over and just hang on
whether to dive into the deep end of what I’ve been living
and splash around and try to put together words that make sense of it.
I dove.
Hope it doesn’t give you a headache:)