"Don't Shame Yourself"
Don’t ever
shame yourself
for showing up,
admitting or sharing,
only to be shutdown
or even ghosted.
To want to reach out
and describe your struggle
and be understood
is better than holding
it all painfully insi
I’ve found myself thinking “I couldn’t go through this again.”
But when I think about it -
I mean, really think about it –
that’s not true.
If I had my time again…
I would know you again.
I would love you again.
And if that meant I would lose you again,
I
I love listening to the rain pitter pattering on the hood of my coat.
I love watching storms dance around the sky from behind a window.
I love feeling the warmth of the sun when I’m sitting in the shade.
And I love hearing the waves crash against th
There's a robin on my fence today,
A feather by my feet
A heart-shaped leaf that blows along
Beside me down the street
Your song played on the radio
This morning in the car
And just last night I could've sworn
I saw a shooting star
The sun and r
~ The Garden in September ~
“I’ve come to love September almost as much as May.
It’s a month of gentle transition, bidding farewell to summer and ushering in autumn.
September is famously soft, rich and characterful, like a fine wine or well-crafted c
Late in May as the light lengthens
toward summer the young goldfinches
flutter down through the day for the first time
to find themselves among fallen petals
cradling their day’s colors in the day’s shadows
of the garden beside the old house
after
Each day is born with a sunrise
and ends in a sunset, the same way we
open our eyes to see the light,
and close them to hear the dark.
You have no control over
how your story begins or ends.
But by now, you should know that
all things have an ending.
Ever
“A bit of earth,
She wants a little bit of earth.
She'll plant some seeds.
The seeds will grow,
The flowers bloom
Their beauty just the thing she needs.
A bit of earth,
A drop of dew,
A bit of earth
A single stem begins to rise.
That bit of earth
Sleeping in the Forest
— Mary Oliver
I thought the earth
remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on the riverbed, nothing
between me and the white
The Fairy Shepherd
by Cicely Fox Smith
When stars come gleaming one by one,
And fold and farm are still,
O I go out to keep the sheep
All night upon the hill.
My master deems me chill and cold
When he lies warm in bed,
But I run leaping with my flock,
And l
THE UNINVITED FRIEND
I have an uninvited friend.
She came to my door last night, again, and I almost pretended to be out.
But it was too late, she saw me peering through the blinds and she can sense my energy anyway.
I let my friend in and she w
Art: Brooklyn Swenson
“Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered,—‘Snow.’
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned,—‘Frost.’
All the
Autumn
by Adelaide Crapsey
Art by Alla Tsank
Fugitive, wistful,
Pausing at edge of her going,
Autumn the maiden turns,
Leans to the earth with ineffable
Gesture. Ah, more than
Spring's skies her skies shine
Tender, and frailer
Bloom than plum-bloom or alm
The Wind And The Leaves
by George Cooper
Art by Maja Lindberg
"Come, little leaves," said the wind one day.
"Come o'er the meadows with me, and play'
Put on your dress of red and gold,—
Summer is gone, and the days grow cold."
Soon as the leaves h
The Tree
by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Art by William Stephen Coleman
The Tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their brown;
"Shall I take them away?" said the Frost, sweeping down.
"No, leave them alone
Till the blossoms have grown,"
Prayed the Tree, while
Artwork by Elaine Bayley Illustrations
A flower that blooms later than the rest
is no less beautiful.
A forest that grows later than the rest
is no less bountiful.
A fruit that ripens later than the rest
is no less delectable.
A sunrise that appears la
"Beautiful Girl Walking through the Field, a Flower in His Hand" by Henri Martin, (1889)
~ Free ~
The tree does not say to the rock,
"You are unworthy"
The moon to the ocean: "You are wrong.
you should not be."
The wind does not judge the fire
"Dreaming of Pomegranates" by Felice Casorati (1913)
Dear Mama Earth
I am tired.
Like your are
Weary to my chalk-earth bones
Mama Earth
I look for you, I have my whole life
Without knowing what for. Why.
Though as a child
I was closer.
I somehow
~ For World Bee Day ~
“Hush now.
The wounds run deep,
but the bees
are full of knowing.
They know the hive
of your heart,
each crooked curled chamber
each hopefully hidden curve,
each darkened holding cell.
They have come
with wings
and song
“What time will you get in tonight?
Text me when you’re home
Be careful if you’re driving
Or if you’re out alone
Shout me if you need me
Or call me anytime
Hey, remember when we did that thing
And laughed until we cried?
Take a coat, it’s rainin
