11.11.18 I Go

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Sometimes it is hard to take myself seriously and I don’t know why

or I do

It’s because of the honesty I can’t hide from myself

though at times I wish I could

because it would be easier

It would be easier not to have to face the insecurities

the what ifs

the let downs

It would be easier to hide the past and present failures

attempts to be what I want to be

but haven’t found my way into 

yet

I look back on my life and I’m happy

but I wonder 

if my path wasn’t riddled with quite so many hesitancies … 

… would I be farther down it?

Would I be on the same route at all?

And one question leads to another

another maybe

another might

another should I have tried

before?

But wishes are wasted on the past

forward is the only direction for dreamers 

and so I venture on

though often I can hardly say even where I’ve been

I am going somewhere

of this I am sure

because I am not where I was

and neither am I in a place I to stop

or stay

ever on –

with a pocket of words for company

I go

10.28.18 All That’s Left Unsaid

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I dream in ochre gold and brilliant red

enchanting leaf-lined swirls that round my head

and in-between the passing wind through trees

there breathes a hint of magic on the breeze

This time when nights grow long and skies grow dark

when flicker-flames dance boldly from a spark 

silent stars look on a little brighter 

spirits rest – our souls somehow feel lighter

I walk into imagination free

my conscious open to all I might see

the bed of dew and leaves become my trail

I lose myself as space and time prevail 

As beasts of nature and of mind lie still

I find my strength beside my own free will

and in the tempest storms where none could save

in near defeat I finally find my brave

The glisten and the glitter of what may

remind my wandering feet at once to stay 

to feel and deal with feelings as they come

experiencing everything but numb

I dream in vibrant orange and deepest green 

a wonder-waking clarity foreseen

delicious stories waiting to be read

in all that is and all that’s left unsaid 

10.9.18 Picturesque Song

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Every once in awhile, when I quiet my busy long enough to feel – life finds another way to bring me back. Sometimes it’s in the unexpected shift in the clouds that reveals an iridescent promise. Sometimes it’s the smile you didn’t see coming from the person who never does. And sometimes, it’s the words you didn’t know you needed to hear until you heard them.  Lately there’s a song that I’ve been loving called “Testify” by the band Needtobreathe. Although all of the lyrics speak to me, there is one line … isn’t there always … that draws me in and holds me.

“Mist on the mountain, rising from the ground – there’s no denying beauty makes a sound.” 

Doesn’t it just make you breathe slower? Close your eyes? And hear it?

What does beauty sound like to you?

I’m not sure I ever thought about it before, but now that I have, I often find myself wondering at what beauty sounds like, and little by little, my list grows.

Beauty sounds like the recession of a wave, pulling back the might of a swell.

Beauty sounds like the contented breathing of love sleeping evenly beside you.

Beauty sounds like the rustle of leaves … the hint of change swirling underfoot.

Beauty sounds like the quiet voice urging you one more time, to carry on.

Beauty sounds like a chance.

Beauty sounds like a choice.

Beauty sounds like a prayer, offered up without anything but remaining hope.

 

What do you hear? I’d love to know what beauty sounds like to you dear ones. Let’s make our own picturesque song.

Elle

9.24.18 Knit Me Back Together

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Nature has a way with restoration

with piecing together the pieces of me

that have begun to pull apart

Stepping into a world of green

the interconnectedness of bough and root

remind me that no part of ourselves 

can be lost from the whole completely 

Silent steps on fallen pine needles

usher me into a place of contemplative quiet

where no burden of daily routines can find me

Why is it that the sound of rushing water 

doesn’t make me hurry?

Why does the blast of racing wind 

set my heart to still?

I think we have become so talented at crowding our senses

senselessly

Filling our minds and our hands with various forms of distraction 

from the beauty that most deserves our attention

Anxious thoughts can’t keep company 

with the tranquil breaths I breathe

My worried mind is finally clarified

when focus is paid to sure feet and steady hands

There is healing in the body seeking higher ground

as if heaven is somehow a tangible opportunity

rather than a far off, distant dream

And what enlightenment there is in realizing this side

can sometimes see holy too

In the promising curl of an infant vine

In the assurance of a rock that still stands so still

In the sacrifice of a fallen, sheltering limb

In the delicate bending of light between darks

Nature has a way with restoration

with piecing together the pieces of me

that had begun to pull apart …

but somehow knit me back together

 

Be well friends,

Elle

8.2.18 Crave

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I crave that creative place

where my mind 

is free to wander 

just a bit

to dabble and dance

in and out 

of a memory or two

lingering in places particularly sweet

and allowing my heartbeat to quicken with reinvented remembering

I love to fall into a good conversation

where the words tumble over themselves 

in an effort to explore the emotions born with them

pushing past inherited perspectives and perceptions 

searching for what is true in your shared or borrowed states of mind

and heart

I wish time was a little less relative 

to everything

and everyone

that there would be more of it in the space of a day

or a moment that doesn’t necessarily need, but wants more attention

so that a detail

a look

or a longing wouldn’t have to go without

I crave that creative place

I love

to wish

7.18.18 Staying’s Enough

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Staying’s Enough 

Sometimes the broken places sneak up on you

like the hairline crack in the pavement you’d never see 

or the single wrinkle in a perfect plan 

you never could have predicted if you tried

Because we do try

and that the problem

We try 

and we fail

and we try again

and we fail again

we fall

and we hurt

and we see others hurting

and we can’t help

so we hurt for them

sharing our space for pain, since they’ve run out

And while I don’t want to feel this way

I’d rather it be this

than not feeling – for them,

for myself

at all

There are things I can’t fix

There are places I can’t go

There are memories I can’t turn back

There are people I can’t change

I wish I was more somehow

that if only I:

loved well enough

prayed hard enough

stayed long enough

or waded through enough

I could save – not just pacify

But maybe …

that’s not the point at all

I was not made to deliver, liberate, or rescue

I was meant to see

I was not asked to reclaim, salvage, or safeguard

I was asked to remain

in the moments that can’t be protected from, but stood by

Sometimes the broken places sneak up on you

like the hairline crack in the pavement you’d never see 

or the single wrinkle in a perfect plan 

you never could have predicted if you tried

But we do try

and that’s the solution

Not to fix

just to stay

And through it all

after all is said

even if nothing’s done

it turn’s out …

staying’s enough

6.18.18 So, So Glad That We Did

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“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”
― Jane Austen

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Friendship is the place for absolutely

for let’s do this,

let’s try that,

and I can’t believe we actually did.

Friendship is for

did he really just say that?

she didn’t –

and for are you serious right now?

Friendship is never saying no to a weekend –

a dinner

a drink

a dessert

or a midnight snack.

Friendship is the comfort to have uncomfortable conversations,

it is the assurance that no topic is unapproachable,

it is the reality that you’re never too far from one another’s truth.

Friendship is the belly-aching laughter you cannot contain …

the giggle you can’t suppress …

the middle-of-a-memory snapshot you’re forming every minute that you’re together.

Friendship is the ability to let time pass without offense,

without guilt,

without the need for recompense.

It is ageless … a mural drawn in portion each time you’re together –

a story

lengthening like an epic,

yet steady in its delightful character choices.

Friendship is never allowing one moment to be stale,

cliche,

or tired.

It is always new, learning pieces and parts,

bits and actualities that ever clarify the reasons you chose one another.

Friendship is the place for without a doubt,

for let’s do this again,

let’s try that next time,

and I am SO, so glad that we did.

 

Go love your friends, RIGHT NOW!

Elle

6.11.18 Three Words Seem

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It wasn’t love at first sight

it couldn’t be

because your heart wasn’t free 

But you saw me

and in seeing me

somehow

knew

that later …

that someday –

someday might be ours

Within the turn of three moons

within the shifting of stars

the constellations hung bright

over a gated garden

Filled to the brim with silent secrets 

exposed

You kissed me then,

but someday

still didn’t belong to us

A walk in the forest later

safely tucked beneath shadowed branches

atop a bed of leaves let down to soften our footfalls

truths were exchanged …

scars were bared …

and we gave one another the gifts of our darkness,

In doing so, who could have known

that touching the broken places

illuminated the light 

that always tried to surface beneath the cracks

That was my someday –

you became my someone

My anxious fingers trailed over white lace,

waiting to be stilled in yours

waiting to carry the new weight of a promise

sealed with a ring 

and a kiss

and a covenant

I promised

and I meant it

We have had many seasons since,

our trips around the sun have bathed us in both shelter and storm

Some adventures are met with bravery and joyful defiance

others are met on our knees

but we face them with a legacy that sustains us

On our worst days you ask me if I’d prefer it were someone else

and heart full of frustration 

I am crestfallen

Because always, 

even then, 

even there, 

even when we are surrounded with ashes and maybes …

You are my person

and this is our someday – however raw and real it may be –

and I am yours

There are two sets of eyes that blink back at us now

setting our hearts and minds ablaze with glimpses of the future

And regardless of reflected personalities –

the set of his jaw,

the line of her brow,

they are the multiplication of us …

twice the benediction of grace 

the result of passion personified

In them – you made me 

a whole new rendering of what I used to be

How can I thank you enough for that gift?

The capacity of being more through you and with you

than I could have become a thousand times over alone

I cannot ever

adequately describe how light 

three

words 

seem

When I need them to carry the weight of the world

my world –

you

So while it wasn’t love at first sight

because time didn’t belong to us 

yet

You will forever be my

love in foresight

owing to the fact that all my tomorrows 

in this life

and any someday’s beyond …

belong to you

5.23.18 Brave

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I want to be brave 

because 

I so 

admire 

the way it looks on other people

There are times in my life that I thought I was … 

but looking back –

the reflection of those memories seem much closer to 

seeking adventure

than requiring bravery in its truest form

which is – Necessity

Brave isn’t a character trait, 

it’s a state-of-being

and the bravest people I know don’t get credit for life

they just live it

So to:

The under-appreciated, marginalized, minorities in society

The citizens of nations who didn’t choose to be born unblessed by geographic happenstance 

The ill of body or mind in a world that makes you feel disposable for being “un-perfect” 

The overstressed, single parents who didn’t ask to do it alone

The children who’ve become accustomed to seeing themselves as an interference

To me? 

You  

are 

the 

brave 

ones. 

And I’m sorry. 

I’m so sorry that every day you don’t have a choice

but to be brave.

This wasn’t the way the world was supposed to welcome you

This wasn’t the life to which you were intended …

Precious little though these words might do

I want you to know

that I recognize the weight of your armor 

and when I see your tired faces

weary with

expectations

insinuations

and constant

degradations

I wish I could 

be 

more

So that I could 

do 

more

for you.

But I’m just me

and I’m not brave

because life never trained me

on battlegrounds like yours

Still, I want you to know

I see

I care

And the one thing I can offer – the truth?

God didn’t plan this part

In no cosmic design were you ever meant to be

less

than the children of divinity 

you are

Your purpose has a place 

and the cartographer of the stars in the heavens Himself

has charted the course of destiny you were meant for

But we are fallen

and life

is acutely unfair

I still want to be brave 

because 

I so 

admire 

the way it looks on other people

I’m just sorry

that wearing brave

was never a choice

you were given to make

 

Always,

Elle