I woke up today, still knowing nothing. I felt the sun on my face and sighed. I am tired. My insides are fatigued and my heart hurts. My heart is getting overwrought with trying to heal. My heart is the gate that will not close and latch behind the person leaving. Most times the person… Continue reading the gate, the latch, the door, the key
Tag: heart-spring
The sea-saw
You are not immune to these moments. Despite whatever cold you weather, rest assured the light will turn and Spring will come ‘round again. You know this. You know that tiny, ever singing bird perched on each heartbeat crying out for the goodness of belonging. That thing with feathers. You know it’s tune despite the… Continue reading The sea-saw
A Season of us
When I was a little girl there was a field behind my house that separated the neighbourhood from the rushing water of the Jones Falls and all that lay beyond. The field is still there behind the house although the little girl has grown much taller now. The field, which my young (and even then-romantic)… Continue reading A Season of us
Why worry at all?
I stood and looked up and saw that the rocks that had once been above me were now below where I stood And I wondered, did they know they would change the shape of the river when they left their perch in the sky? Their falling caused streams where no streams were before. And petite… Continue reading Why worry at all?
The Reckless Gardner
When it comes to gardening the first rule is this: you can’t be afraid to get your hands dirty, anything worth cultivating is going to take time and work. And how satisfying will it be to see the hard work pay off! Where there once was just grass there is now a patch of earth… Continue reading The Reckless Gardner
Falling in Maine
To combat the loneliness, I walk slowly. When I get to my apartment I know what I will find when I enter; dishes that need washing, my yoga mat half rolled up and the quiet punctured only by the hum of the fridge. I’ve taken to peeking into the windows of the neighboring houses from… Continue reading Falling in Maine
And Oh! The songs you would sing!
When I was eight, I remember laying flowers on my Grandfather’s grave—my mother’s father—for Christmas—a somber family ritual. My grandmother stood next to me and said: “You never know when God will call you home to tend to his garden.” And she pointed upward towards the sky and raised her eyebrows the way she often… Continue reading And Oh! The songs you would sing!
thewelcomelight.com 