A.C.

I turn to gaze to face the day, to drink in beauty and blot out pain   Snip snip clip clip not too high and not too short I breathe and weave, hands flow in and out Dodging thorns, pulling weeds, Dipping low to sow some seeds   And in this beauty, these sights and smells Within myself, upward wells Tears   Tears that come and tears I cry as wails within me break towards...

As I stepped outside, still hot with anger The cool night air was shocking I stopped and looked around me In the night all was still and silent Unexpectedly, a little bird, in the old willow tree, across the green, began to sing Sweet and soft, and yet sure and strong As I listened, I thought back to earlier that night And with the music almost flowing through me I saw the events of that...

Fall is a sound I hear, crunching under foot   Such beauty, height, presence A great mast she would be, fit for any king’s finest ship Yet here amongst the mold and reeds she is most beautiful when she is just left be   Crack and blunder Split asunder Wind like a mighty cleaver Has left this tree worse than beaver Ragged edges, linen white Makes the others shiver with fright

I want to and cannot have Strive and do not attain   The void is deep and dark There often I want to hide   But remember! I must remember Where I have come from Who calls me Their own   I am not some trash to be thrown out Or some dirty rug to be beaten clean   I am adopted Chosen by grace Never alone

Gentle waves, lapping at the shore. Pushing sand, swirling shells, knocking edges off of broken glass and sanding smooth the rough tree branch. This is the sea. The sea and me had a meeting today. Just a look and a little touch I thought. I’ll go down gently and rest my fingers, maybe the whole of my hands in her gentle kiss. She laughed. Splash. Her bounds are not a respecter of my person, particularly...