Choreographed in complexity
Dark yet
Heavy tones spiraling out with exhausted sighs
doxology
Dusk
fine lines
Amid the broken fragments
smoothed
by time and trauma,
lie spaces
thinned and shattered,
spellbound by weathered hope
and promise.
Blending
Lost in the colors
of neighbors with barren views
desperate
everyone blending
searching
for a place called home
Promise year: 42
To have and to hold “will not last long”
too messy, too young they said
yet 42 promise years later,
we stand each whole
and yet one.
Lost often in transitions of life and being
Found tired and tried
But always true to the journey
One breath at a time of I Love You’s.
On the pin
Living daily on the edge, the point of change and even chaos requires an ability to perceive and interpret beginnings. Can you see something new happening from something old? Can you hear the key change and move to an altered beat?
To do this every day is not sustainable without love and hope. Love creates the net that will catch you when you fall from the pinnacle and hope promises to set you back upright and in a new place.
So on the head of a pin angels dance, moving to the beat of a love song — hopeful you will see them orchestrating your part in new spaces of beginning.
No Place like Home
The walk of life requires some places of surety and sound footing. There needs some protection, some cover in the walk through the hurt and fear layering the everyday path.
It’s all about the shoes.
You need to make your own.
You cannot wear another’s shoes- even if they seem to fit and look more fresh. They will blister the soul… you will die with them on. Your shoes belong to your journey.
Such shoes are crafted by the pain of a specific life, in how one survives the losses, walks through harsh words and even self judgements. The fabric is rich in the blood of sacrificed wants and dreams- the binding and seams, though, sewn with Love, God-breathed and polished. This is what makes them strong enough to make the climb and last the dance.
Like Dorothy who trusted her shoes to take her home, there is a trust in the walk home, finding the ways and places of self knowing and healing– standing in your own shoes.
Women Who Run With the Wolves; “The Red Shoes” C.Estes. 1992.
The Wizard of Oz; L.Frank Baum. 1900.
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