unsent letter

i stood on the ocean floor up to my ankles in mud and this is what i saw...

a promise

clay pots

i hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea

sometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me.

i am hanging in the balance of a perfect finished plan

like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand

~emmy lou harris

enfolded

i have carved you in the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace.

i look at you with infinite tenderness and care for you with care more intimate then that of a mother for her child.

i have counted every hair on your head and guided every step.

you are my beloved.

known

The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.

~hemingway

what if...

moving into joy

it hopes all things... love that is

called to love

all of my ambitions hopes and plans

i surrender these into

your hands

for it's only in your will that i am free

be still

it is only when we are broken that we can be made whole

amie

we've been friends since we were fifteen

and i think we will be for a long time

were we called to be friends?

we were called to be in relationship

...a kindred friendship

grace like rain

Turnin' molehills into mountains
Makin' big deals out of small ones
Bearing gifts as if they're burdens
This is how it's been
Afraid of coming out of my shell
Too many things I can't do too well
Afraid I'll try real hard
And I'll fail
This is how it's been
Till the day You pounded on my heart's door
And You shouted joyfully
You're not a slave anymore!

all that is unsettled is Yours

this is what i read in my book last night:

A great part of my work has been listening to people....

When people come to speak to me, whatever they say, I am struck by a kind of incandescence in them, the "I" whose predicate can be "love" or "fear" or "want", and whose object can be "someone" or "nothing" and it won't really matter, because the loveliness is just in that presence, shaped around "I" like a flame on a wick, emanating itself in grief and guilt and joy and whatever else.

beautiful mess

i believe in myself slowly

it takes all the doubt that i have

it makes me wonder