8.15.22 Thirteen


Dear Thirteen,

I remember you. You, who was full of sugar, and spice, and salt, and sass, and lots and lots of questions. Yes … I remember you well indeed. You were kind and cruel and curious. You taught me a great deal about myself, and others, and the world, and my temporary place in it. And while I might not have the “right” to ask you, I am going to do so anyway. Do you think that you … the queen of the in-between, neither here nor there, unsure and awkward – could just be awesome for her instead? That just this once, instead of lessons learned and humbled by experience, you could be only sweet? Only gentle?

I’d really appreciate it because, you see, this girl here? She means the world to me. More than the world, actually. And believe it or not, whether or not she should … she already feels too much. She finds a way to absorb the beauty around her, but also the pain. She wears the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders without being asked to carry it. Compassion should come with a badge of honor, in which case, she’d already have a purple heart. So go easy, Thirteen. She is bright, and brilliant … a tiny star in a world that challenges her light, but does not extinguish it.

Be kind to her.

Be soft.


8.3.22 The Art of Dreaming

“I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do.” 
― Haruki Murakami

Teach me the art of dreaming …
of the spaces and places between intentional thought and wonder
Share with me the masterpiece of mastering peace – where it comes from, where it hides
and why
Enlighten me on the ability to wish resolutely
with honesty and conviction
aspiration converging with inclination
until there is nothing left of me
but belief
Give me the talent of trust
of knowing that not needing to know is enough
faith without agenda or vindication
hope in the raw
Teach me the art of dreaming …
with reckless abandon
with relentless pursuit
with passion

and purpose
and implausible serenity

too tranquil to fathom too perfect to question