Cassidy’s treasures

In the laundry bin, making home next to my socks and underwear, I found a little tube of glossier blush, two square neon magnets, and a special scrap of fabric.

Later, I noticed a wadded post-it note that had been deliberately squashed & stuffed in a tiny hole on one of Cassie’s toys.

The next day it was her socks in a beaded purse and crackers crumbs in her dad’s shoe.

Her little hands peruse her world, making discoveries and then poking around until she finds exactly where they belong. A perfect home for such special things.

And I, unaware of these “spots” discover these treasures like long-lost easter eggs. 

Ode to a soft time

I count myself with the most fortunate

to have little toes to call piggies 

and little giggles to tickle out 

Her toys sprinkled around our home;

I've never loved a mess more.

 

Recipe maker

Her heavy limbs find refuge in my softened body. She stirs and Her eyes blink wide and meet mine with delight. Please draft a recipe so I can bottle up this sweetness and drink it for the rest of my life. 

You are my sun

 Spence is actual sunshine, and I, the lucky girl who got to marry the sun. I soak in his splendor and marvel at his light. 

 "This is the happiest I've ever been"

-SS

 "Like my mother before me, I’ll raise my girl to think she breathes fire."

Just tryna get stokes for the upcoming season

 

Sticky sweet sappy joy

He feels like green-laden fields bathed in sticky summer. I shower in that joy daily. 

I wish time would slow down. Maybe then I’d be so overflowing that I could sustain myself on the mere memory of what this feels like

desolation trail p.1

Surrounded by the sweet earth,
my worries quiet

I try to hear the chorus of the leaves and roots
laying testemant to their kind Creator

I much preferred living among the clouds

It's been 5 years since I started stripping the magic from my eyes and ears
Once bare, I found myself firmly planted in adulthood

Heavy (Mary Oliver)

That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying

I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,

as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,
was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel,
(brave even among lions),
“It’s not the weight you carry
but how you carry it –
books, bricks, grief –
it’s all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down.”

So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?

Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?

How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe

also troubled –
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?