Everyone else will be at church here. I will have mine in the woods as I run toward something of promise, I hope.
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@breakingthemundane
Everyone else will be at church here. I will have mine in the woods as I run toward something of promise, I hope.
hush
be still and quiet the mind mend the soul let stillness blanket worry and as softness replaces rigid and ragged breath
may the rise and fall hum you to sleep
"Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light"
'The Gifts of Imperfection' Brené Brown
Ode to What is Dark
At first, I despised you even fought you I compartmentalized keeping seperate this idea that you were not a part of me A heavy, dark sometimes sickening thud of a thing residing in my stomach and radiating through my chest until my body was overtaken and no light would enter the lense At one point of becoming particularly swallowed whole I began to accept this dark brooding part of myself and upon this conclusion little slivers of light bit through blackness ravaging the gloom, plate clean Because, in fact, light is hungry too
a laughing tree
come, let us climb this tree
of glistening wood
from the green blue sea
of shapely leaves salty
and wind kissed
oh, but its limbs are too long
and ours are too short
laughter fills our bellies
like good food
and we smile as we concede
knowing so much in a moment
can be gained
a forever memory of you and me
and a laughing tree
Of Climbing
This is not a sprint, a gallop
or even a trot
but a slow and steady climb
A burning in the calves
and in the soul
A flush and wind that rests upon skin
and permeates through to bone
I reside here, thrive here
So sprint by, gallop by
trot along
as I sink into and taste the fruits
of this slow and steady climb
With September comes the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and worn book bindings to diligently cling to. The falling leaves, a promise of erudition to spring forth.
The unassuming pathway This is where the pathway splits One direction new One direction old It is difficult to break the spell of a misguided childhood To march on down to a new idea of how you could possibly live. Not survive but live. Choosing happiness is not the easy thing to do.
Passing by
each day
like the other
I could cry
One big inhale
exhale to start again
If only I
knew how to
break the
mundane