"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
“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
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
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
The Cure For It All
Go gently today, don’t hurry
or think about the next thing. Walk
with the quiet trees, can you believe
how brave they are—how kind? Model your life
after theirs. Blow kisses
at yourself in the mirror
especially when
you think you
joy is feeling
looking upwards
skies enrapture
the sorry self
and its grievance
joy is seeing
looking westwards
social fracture
healing itself
from insurgence
joy is knowing
looking eastwards
proper culture
relieves oneself
from ignorance
joy is seeing
looking outwa
joy is knowing
the best of views
fuels volition
to climb the mount
joy is having
freedom to choose
which obstruction
one must surmount
joy is knowing
hearing the muse
is like drinking
from the youth fount
joy is having
nothing to lose
and yet having
blessings to co
when gloominess
deflects the gale
joy is the wind
that fills the sail
when despair is
tricking the scale
joy is the clue
that tells the tale
when spleen is thick
and hopes are pale
joy is meaning
that lifts the veil
when no reason
can find the trail
joy is compass
