the balm of the march of january

sometimes the cold is within

the fold

of the innermost corner of belief. 

a word filled with bright hope, but in

these days

the meaning holds more of a 

dark secret. 

matter of time, until everyone else believes this secret with me; alone. 

sometimes the warmth comes from a friend. 

kind words reminding you the gold can be held at all times, and isn't just for dress up. 

sometimes the word comes from 

yourself, before. 

when you didn't know this, but did know where you had been already. and that path was

heavy

rutted with 

loneliness. 

from lack of exposure

and now you have the other kind

rutted with 

experience

to show you a different empty. 

but those molds needent cling to the present

the gift that you are to yourself. those ruts can be left behind

as a part of the road

you

are

traveling

.

continuous, dear heart. keep hope. keep love. keep eyes to the sky and ear to the birds for their songs 

call to the corner of your lips without fail.

learning: the practice of life. 

now. 

the war wages on.

twinkle

all the lights
some steady, powered by a current i cannot own
although i pay for it
but to whom, most definitely not the rightful owner.
some flicker, with a grace captivating
like no other. simply to be in it's presence causes one to feel
more whole.


and i wonder, if it is like this simply for lights
what else in life follows suit?
that the electric, the fancy, the invented new and bright and always on
are never as comforting as those
which have been in our generations for generations
created by those who knew the power of it's warmth;
harnessed it in portable form.
that these things, the most genuine and bare versions
are always the most connected.


as the light brings warmth to the darkness
so love brings
stark ourselves.

twinkle on, enraptured.

sway

the hum surrounds

and whisper quiet air drifts down

as we all sway with our seats. 

tracks made by us all as we go

away

from something and 

towards

something else. 

memories shush silent

can be heard in the 

eyes of your fellow

traveler. 

as you all sway to the past

and the future

in limbo

on the

train.

tonight too soon.

I knew it was going to be hard

the day has just come too quickly. 

where I sit in the echo of the last hug

the wake of the conversation

we had 

full 

of all kinds of 

goodbyes.

so badly the urge to 

shove the emptiness away

simply pick up the phone and make a call

I will regret 

made of words and feelings from past versions of myself. 

it is as Lamott says

"butt in chair. shitty first draft."

and as much as tears are on the precipice, the laugh overcomes it. 

for this too is temporary. 

I am learning.

this is most of life. 

love surrounds,

including 

the future.

tonight is just right. 

so over this.

if i leave something 

I know

for something 

I want

but don't 

know 

exists

it makes me feel, toes curled over the lip of the board, staring into my own reflection 

hesitating

that I don't fully want to live. 

that I would rather wait til I am forced off or pushed in. 

but I am so over this,

waiting for...the rest of my life. 

it is within me. 

I jump. 

human

what if

we could all be just

a little bit better

at

being human 

?

what if

i just spent a moment

every day

being a

better human

?

what if

being human

was seen as

positive over

the negative

so often associated

with the thought

?

we are SO powerful. 

 

i can be much better,

to better humanity.

healing what you needed to hear.

sometimes you just need to hear a strong, comforting voice say

"IT'S OK, YOU- YOU'RE DOING THE BEST YOU CAN!! 

you're trying! 

you're engaging with life- with hard situations, with the twists and turns you encounter.  

and you're climbing 

up and over 

the obstacles and weaving in the learning. 

you're doing a good job at figuring out how to love. 

that's what matters. 

you're in the thick of it, and it's gonna be ok."

and sometimes you just have to say it to

yourself, 

she says, 

crying as she types. 

realizing what she needed to hear.

healing,

from a strong, comforting voice. 

her own.