Magic & Phrase

Generosity

Be generosity to the weeds embedded in the edge of my heart.

Nurturance and tenderness to their prickly stalks and tiny flowers.

 

Not all memories held within are solid or kind.

 

Unicorn pastels roses lace teacups encircled neatly in the clearing.

Now.

Sharp thorns of musty basement arm shoved down choking shame blindness from fear poke through.

 

Garden gate swings inward.

Here ruins and pretense in sculpted and cultivated ornamental lawns lie.

 

Entrust me my wildness and tangled thickets.

Remain the weak, the poisonous and the brambles of pain.

Spare also the daisies.

 

Devour in earth time all of me.

Now.

No more vines plucking out. No more saving the pretty from the dirty.

 

Heartside welcomes the full shape of my past spiky and curved.

Showers of calm and breezes of affection settle in.

 

Weeds and flowers together run riot in the growth of my remembrances and I belong to all of it.

Magic & Phrase

Acceptance

She attends all that life offers with open hands, releasing the spent wings into the breeze and sheltering the fragile perches in her palms.

Nature gladly alights upon her and receives from her, knowing both the soft surrender and sturdy welcome will endure.

Undulations of blossoming and withering that would unsteady the outstretched grasp of another are met in her embrace as a heartbeat.

Her fingers dance the rhythm as her arms rise in exaltation of a moment–this moment–felt, breathed and held in full sunlight, just as it is.