1. In our hands

    Water swishes below

    and feet graze the ground;

    the darkness feels light 

    in my hands.

    We see shapes of trees 

    and the stars burn low, while

    legs fold across cold stone

    Let’s sit in parallel shapes and

    wait

    for a slow, swirling -

    collide.

    You, me, us

    l fold this idea up

    like a worn piece of paper

    and keep it in my hand

    for someday.

    For now, we feel heavy

    in the burning darkness 

    the weight, your shoulders,

    lean on me - always on me.

    Arms, hands, shoulders, and lips

    we fold together

    and share the weight

    in our hands.

  2. kgmcc9009:

    This choreography captures Ben Howards “Old Pine” beautifully,

    The movement matches the joyful nostalgia I always feel when I listen to this song, the euphoric, bittersweet, summertime remembrance that compels me to dance barefoot, and stare at the stars simultaneously.

    TIP: make sure you watch until that last canon, it’s beautiful!!!

    Best Of British Stephen Aspinall and Lukas McFarlane

    beauteous! 

  3. Mending

    Mending-

    A needle and thread

    Simple

    Running in and out

    Of the whole

    Aching expanse

    Taking the tear

    Away

    Away

    Make them blend

    The thread and cloth

    Keep quiet, so no one knows

    Where it breaks

  4. The Roof

    "Do you remember when you climbed up to the school roof and how you could see for miles? In the same way you’re going to climb this mountain, and at the top you will see how little everything is in comparison to what I will give you."

    I should not be okay after this year of trial, anxiety, and torment. A normal person would not be okay. But I am often reminded that I was not meant for a white picket fence kind of life. Please, do not misunderstand, I do not mean that in an arrogant way. The oddity in my life right now is that I am okay.

    Bravery is highly underrated and ill defined in my world. Bravery operates by the Spirit, the will that reminds the soul of what is worth fighting for. It is certainly not a feeling. Just as faith is not a feeling, but rather the act of perseverance that says, “I do not care that I do not feel or see the results of prayer, but I’ll keep asking and fighting until I do.” This has been my life this year. I have often found myself in a corner shaking with cold fear thinking, “I cannot do this!” A voice will always come shortly thereafter to say, “Rise daughter and take a step forward.” With bravery I do not possess on my own, I get up and take one step, only to find myself propelled forward by grace. I have found the most effective way to fight for the future is to do the exact opposite of what I am feeling. Sometimes that seems almost impossible, because what I feel so strongly is often on the verge of debilitating. However, that is when grace comes in.

    Grace is misunderstood as well. Grace is not comprised of feelings, but is power to do what I do not think I can do. For so much of my life, I have prayed for grace and have expected to feel better, but that is usually not the case. Sometimes I feel better after I take the first step, but all the time, regardless of how I am feeling, grace simply gets me to where I need to go.  

    It is easy to ask, “Why am I here?” Most of the time that is the wrong question to ask, because regardless of the answer, I am here. There is no going over it, under it, or around it. I have to go through it (thank you childhood song for your infinite wisdom).

    The wilderness stretches before me and it seems endless, but the truth is that it will end. It has to end, because that is the nature of the called and answered life. There have been many oases, times of relief and comfort in this long journey, but I see a river that leads me out. I see a future full of possibility. I see freedom from the wilderness that ends with me gaining power that I never knew I held in my hands. It is okay, and it will be okay.

  5. The Hill

    There is a hill behind my house that changes

    With every season, it transforms and makes me

     Roughly move on from waiting to rolling.

     I have known that hill my entire life,

    At the hill’s end, all is night filled with strife;

    It is flat and ready for an ambush.

    I have never chased anything but truth

    Which always leads me into a battle.

    On the hill top my body leans forward

    And the sky stretches far upward:

    Up, up, up the sky appears boundless

    My feet are almost lifted from the ground,

    My selfish soul, she wants to soar, painless.

    But down below lies a glorious fight

    The priceless prize Truth begs my mind, “seize me!”

    Resolve flings my body down to the night.

  6. This is a piece created by my dear sister Amy Sullivan and I wrote it in congruence with the poem I posted below, enjoy.

  7. Passing Vessels

    We are as passing vessels in the night,

    crossing in similar lines through

     heavy air on aged skin and weathered sails.

    Absently we drift watching for stormy gales,

    ignorant of the threat, lurking

    within shifting seas - a dance of arms swinging,

    unsteady feet stepping back and forth

    on sturdy floors, on a wavering world:

    in this dance we’ve have been hurled

    and stay curled,

    for there we lay in parallel shapes.

    Looking past the other to the water, I ask,

    “Why have you come passing vessel?”

    The answer is buried,

     like a capsule.

    My mourning comes with your passing,

    like salt it sticks to our

    lips, skin, and hair;

    here, where water never completes its purpose.

    How is it that you pass on the surface

    of the sea

    unnoticed and unmoved?

    If only you took notice on this course,

    your fellow traveler and all you lack;

    so passing vessel can you turn your back

    on the sinking ship you leave behind?

    Will you mourn this passing,

    or be so kind

    as to carry me from this fateful bind.

  8. Home

    In you is home

    where I come for safety,

    and fears must leave me

    and the truth, I let it be.

    In you are four walls,

    in which reside my

    body, soul, and mind

     completely whole.

    In you is shelter

    giving me kindness

    from the weather,

    altogether, untarnished.   

    In you is foundation

    to keep my ground

    when the earth is shaking,

    and I stop thinking.

    In you is home, a place

    where I cannot get lost

    within myself,

    where I stand secure,

    always.

    In you is home.

  9. Sounds

    I’m in love with the summer sounds,

    the chattering of children resounds

    through the screen of the window pressed open;

    I never mistake the songs of birds

    or the feel of the first spring breeze,

    I hear the sounds of summer driving,

    driving past people, places, and pieces -

    pieces of earth scattered and shattered

    pieces of earth I wish to mend

    so I walk to the sounds of summer

    the sounds I love touching you touching me

About me

A place for my poems, favorite quotes and such.

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