New Growth

When the tree gets it’s limbs cut off, it grows new ones in different places. That tells you two things: 1) it continued to grow after facing adversity and 2) it learned from the experience enough to grow in new ways.

Conquering Fear

In these small moments when the days run long and time is short I cherish the intentions I set in my journey to being more courageous with the things I love. Where is this journey taking you? Do you roam it alone or is there another soul present?

Relief

There is strength in knowing that you’ve traveled far and true in the realms of what it means to be a human in hurt. There’s a certain relief at the resignation of knowing that the Earth will continue to orbit around a sun that has yet to burn out for eons to come. There is purity in knowing that the wind can quell your sorrows and place your anxieties to sleep if you give it that power. There is a cleansing in cold rain drenching your clothes in a downpour if you lend your muscles to the power of nature so that they may relax. No matter what tribulations you journey through remember that your heart is still beating with the hum of the Earth and your breath inundates your lungs like a transparent and active ocean.

To Be Taught Hope

There were never doubts or darkness in those eyes, there was only excitement and expectation. You never settled for less than you deserve and you never gave less than you knew you could. It thrilled me, won me to you, gave me hope and dreams of life. Now I too expect, deserve, and give what I know I can. You have been sculpted by many artists some controversial, some absolutely lovely and you are the finished product of love and battles that I have never understood—it’s intriguing. My favorite moments are those where you linger on the features of my face and you know all that you want in that moment. I am full of calm, a peace that you gently placed in my life and I am grateful.

Witch’s Chant

Underneath the full moon I muster all the strength required of oceans to swish into shores in darkness. The sands by my feet are velvet as my night-lantern guides me from the sky. Goddess power flows through outstretched hands, permeating the salt crystals in the air. My skin glistens with dew and light and within me a light shines outward. A third eye opens and looks steadily into the shadows cast by the moonlight and within me courses knowledge of secret enchantments long-quieted by witches securing the secret of their craft. They tell me know the things I must know. The shadows come into light—moon goddess.

Stories About Love

Sometimes I’m tired of writing about the feeling of love, but then I remember lips on my forehead, your fingers through mine as we walk underneath the sunshine. I remember your eyes so light and uplifting gently gazing at me with adoration and I wonder if damn… might this ever be…

Then I hear your voice reminding me that I am special and it affirms what I already know of you, that I like you for more than who you are, but also for what you represent, what you stand for. I love that you are heavy with convictions, yet sometimes budge when I challenge you and it makes me smile to know that together there is never a boring moment. I could sit there with you with my head on your shoulder and my fingers running through your chest and arms as I listen to your soft voice in the night.

Here I thought that I was done writing stories about love.

Emptiness

Why do you feel so empty?

You engage in self-care, enjoy small luxuries, and have people who seem to care for you.

Perhaps the devil is in the details with the seemingly available parts of your last statement. Are they truly there and if there are individuals there, do they provide the things you need?

If affections were delivered on a more continuous schedule, would you feel replete or simply satisfied? Do people naturally feel satiated of “love”?

I had hoped to earn the answers to these questions on my endeavors through adulthood, you know, when I was old enough to understand what this all meant. As I matured to recognize what it meant to want this from others as opposed to simply receiving it. It seems almost unseemly that some people have it always while others struggle to wring it out as if they were wringing the juice out of tough-to-squeeze lemons.

How do the people that choose to be lonely manage the excess of feelings that bubble out of the brain and body? I keep looking for comfort in the arms of old friends.

 I left all my significant connections when young, and then I left the newly formed ones after high school as well. Afterwards, I closed the doors on those I lived with for four years…They made me feel like home wasn’t a place, but a community. I recognize that my dark sometimes overpowers my light—I have not learned the secrets to this form of isolation. Where did all the people go and was it my fault that they are no longer there?