Friends | There are words that can be applied to each of us, but they are rarely complex enough, rich enough, to paint even a simple picture of who each of us are. I could easily tell you that I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and when the stars align and the moment is held long enough, a lover, but what does that really tell you about me? I could add that I am left handed, a little haphazard, have a mild allergy to small talk and am an animal and poetry lover. I could tell you about my quiet satisfaction with softly raining days, the beauty of darkness, and the exuberance with which my heart leaps at the crash of a storm or wave on a rocky beach. I could tell you how I turn away from screens filled with violence and fear and blood, but also am fascinated with vampires and the fae, with the esoteric and the mundane. I could tell you that I take the time in the morning to make a cup of tea, but often have mismatched socks. What then? You might have a little more of an idea then--but what animals? And what poems? What kind of person am I in the morning? what kind of person truly loves the rain, the wild whipping of the wind? I don't know you. And you don't know me, and between us is this vast and narrow land of internet, where anything and nothing can be true at exactly the same time. But sometimes it's worth reaching across that gulf to connect with another soul. Really, what are our lives but the sum of what we feel connected to? So I feel connected to the earth and to the living world around me, and to books, and to words, and the weird and wonderful. What do you feel connected to? Vocabulary: Miss u 2 years ago • Report • Link 0 TinkerMouse: Forget chocolates or Roses. Forget the false earth-stars We string on chains around the neck Or finger. Forget words even, for moment, Those seductive and serpentine snares Which hold such depth of promise And such capacity for deceit. Give me instead the cold radiating off A faded winter coat, the smell of cars or trees In the susserous creases of fabric Give me the fold of your arms around my waist, And heart, Let me hear, While you hold me close as breathing, the pulse in your throat, Pressed against my ear, As steady and unknowable As the sea View all 14 posts JustAnotherJen: I read Peter's comment four hours ago and I'm still trying to wrap my brain around why that particular misspelling would be "troubling." TinkerMouse: The Butterfly Look, I know how it feels, That tightening of the gut, The sharpening of the mind, That longing that Burns like a star behind your staring eyes. Everything so focused on that one precious thing, that one person, glowing like Icarusβ sun, promising to change everything. And youβre telling yourself, as you reach, as you bleed on the brambles youβre fighting through, Youβre telling yourself that this is the one, that thing your whole life depends on, The holy grail, wrapped in silver, with such care, with your named typed on the card, like so To: You From: The Powers That Be And I get it. I do. Listen though, This morning, I swear, She came, all impossible fragility and ageless beauty, dainty and full of a nameless courage, Resting her body on mine for only a moment, Or forever And I thought: Perhaps this is what it means to be happy, Sitting still as stone in the wet grass, your entire body a prayer and barely breathing, hardly even being human, and never mind the tears Perhaps through all the chaos and bleeding that is life Happiness is not the mad scramble and chase but the quiet before the storm, or even after it the learning to be still and accept, to see the softest of touches, the briefest of joys, for the wonder they are Jaguar Essence: I can't believe this year has gone by so quickly, as well it's amazing how an individual creates an space on others environment that their absence is noticeable, just like you dear friend. I hope all is well with you and your loved ones. Thank you for being a force of balance in an environment of chaos, may you enjoy the holiday festivities in the company of your loved ones, in an ambience of peace, joy, acceptance and gratitude. El Chupanalgas: Sé que no sabes de mí, y no te puedo mentir. Lo que dicen en la calle sobre mí Y no te voy a negar TinkerMouse: From Their Prospective Sometimes, no matter what you offer, in faith, with your heart and veins exposed, there is that look in their eyes. And, despite all you can do, you know they are not seeing you. You know they are only seeing ghosts where you stand. And you think, no, --ache--: after all, perhaps it is easier to be frightened by the ghosts you are familar with, than risk relying on love you are not. Still, you stand there, waiting, patient as the sea. View all 42 posts TinkerMouse in reply to I_Otter_Know_By_Now: That color is lately a favorite of mine. Which is interesting because I always thought it was horrid before TinkerMouse: The sun falls, Lighting the hills a failing fire Bright enough to please even Prometheus, In his eternal sacrifice. What I mean to say, when I say this, And when I talk about the autumn leaves dying Splendidly and with such grace, When I whisper about the owl's crimson gift Of renewal to her children When I know that this autumn is new And so ancient, The seasons dancing their dance As they did with Austen, with Thoreau, With Shakespeare, and Ghandi, With de Vinci and the Buddha Is that we are all human And glorious And small And how much do you matter, really, When the sky is so azure blue that it hurts? When your child, Carmel skinned and hazel eyed clings to a tree that stood before her great grandmother was even considered, When the world shakes before storms and has not yet fallen And the answer of course is that you, Like the sunset, Like the leaves And the trees And the child, Matter so much, and always will. And, are infinitely, inescapably, Part of everything, Part of the whole, And so, The whole. (Last installment for Mark's OC week. But you all know I will continue to foist my philologos illness upon you while I'm here) TinkerMouse: : Could one friend please copy and repost? I am trying to demonstrate that someone is always listening. πππππππ #SuicideAwareness 1-800-273-8255 Just one person. |