Sitting Beside You

Sitting beside you
A book in your hands
My pen on this page
Sometimes there are no words to be uttered
A few simple moments of sweet looks exchanged
A strong, familiar feeling falls upon us
An agreement that beauty and love have arranged.

Different Houses

Yesterday I walked through a lovely neighborhood
accompanied by two souls dearest to me
It was night
The air was still
Trees towered the houses
springing scents into the smooth air
One distinct home-
Secretly concealed by an enchanting gate
enveloped in vines
I wondered and dreamed of what dwelled within the gate
We walked onward
nature hummed
We listened
Another solitary home-
a path of white roses trailed to the doorway
And another home-
endless stained-glass windows-
we peaked inside
A dim light was glowing softly
I wondered what the people were like
who lived in these houses
each one unique
Some with brick, and some with stone
Others with green foliage flourishing about their courtyards
white-wood panels, vines covering brick and stone,
fragrant flowers
Not one was only just common
This stroll, with those I love dearest-
These lovely houses, as we are-
not one the same.

Mine, You Are

Mine, you are
I beg of you to stay right here
even when beyond your control
You are my whole heart
My calm spring in a feverish place
My gleam of light splintering through the trees
in a dim wood

Don't allow me to envision
a life aside from you
No other path is comprehensible
You are my treasured angel
My beloved
We will soon be solitary
You and I,
Forever
Mine, you are

Old Golden Meadow

I took a path to the old golden meadow
I almost forgot it was once what I'd known
My palm brushed along the tops of weeds that had grown
As my memory made record of the moment
The way the breeze blew and the sweet sun had shone

And I don't know why
but I never took that way home again
It was so beautiful and dear to me
I trudged forward to dawn
Though sometimes still peaking back
Was this a simple reverie?
Or a misted memory?

I stumbled upon a forest today
I cling to it's goodness and do all in my power
To imprison and trap it's beauty before
it slips through my grasp
For a moment is all that I have

And I don't know why
But I never took that way home again
It was so beautiful and dear to me
I trudged forward to dawn
Though sometimes still peaking back
Was this a simple reverie?
Or a misted memory?

Peace in a Field

Found my way outside today on a stroll through a calm and empty field. It is a perfect place to quiet my mind.



"I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavour. It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts."
-Henry David Thoreau

Kindness

Lately I have been really focusing on kindness. Rather, I have been choosing it. It is so easy to be impacted by other people and adapt to their anger or bitterness about circumstances. That anger, bitterness, and hurt is completely understandable and justified, and I do not hold it against anyone for feeling the way that they feel. I myself have and do at times feel anger, bitterness, and hurt among other normal human emotions. As someone who suffers from an anxiety disorder it is easy to feel plagued and doomed by these awful thoughts and emotions on a daily basis. At a certain point I was feeling upset and overwhelmed, and easily irritated at many things and people. I realized that this was only hurting myself and causing a chain reaction of negative thoughts.

I have always been a daydreamer. Sometimes my dreams seam irrational or unreal but I don't care. I will never stop yearning for goodness and light, and this brings me back to kindness. I decided to make a conscious effort to be kinder because at the bottom of my heart love, friendship, and beauty are all I truly desire. I will cleave to the joyful thoughts and dreams that float through my head and do my best to be kinder and more understanding to everyone I encounter. I think we should all let the light in more often and feel it melt the coldness we let seep in.

“Laura felt a warmth inside her. It was very small, but it was strong. It was steady, like a tiny light in the dark, and it burned very low but no winds could make it flicker because it would not give up.”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Long Winter

Painted Photographs

Lately I have been working on a very dear project of painted photographs. Some are my own, and some are once beloved photographs that belonged to someone long ago. This is an ongoing project and there will be many more to come!