i love those quiet summer evenings in the hills

the din of cicadas punctuated by the angle of the wind bouncing off my ears

my shadow the longest i’ve seen it today

the sky the bluest i’ve seen it this year

and i wonder what cracks me open

is it the silence framed by the busyness of the scurrying ants below my feet

is it trust in knowing the redwoods will be here tomorrow

or that i know i’m the only one up here

here! i yell, here, here, here

like there was nowhere else to be

here contained in where

like obviously that’s how language works

but not so clear when clarity plays tag everyday

days blend together in there

simplicity, in their duplicities

the rocks never moving save for once every couple million years

and when i’m here 

i feel slowness like those rocks

no need to move no need to scurry no need to set any suns in stone

just here

and in that there is opening

there is choosing

there is now

in that there are worlds to be

simply 

to be

On Love

The beauty of love is that it renews itself in each new moment. The beauty of love is that it shifts, changes, grows, in each new moment. Today I feel so loved. I’ve never felt so incredibly welcoming of love. So easily enveloped by its sweetness and grateful for its continual unfolding. The lovely thing about love is that it builds upon itself. In my heart. In the bees buzzing through the borage. In the laughter of friends. In the playfulness of existence. The beauty of love is that it is simple. Welcoming like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a brisk fall day. Leaves dropping from trees like gentle kisses on my forehead. Love is acceptance, over and over. Of others. Of oneself. Of the potential for connection. For change. Love is surrender, deep and deeper. Love is opening, wide and wider. Opening to the gentleness of a flower petal. The touch of a friend. Growing of self-worth. Self-expression. Love is community. Being held. Asking for support and being met. Love is someone spending time making you something with their hands and their heart for no other reason than that they love you. Love is someone telling you that you matter. That you are beautiful. As you are. That you are all you’ve ever meant to be. That you are here. That you are seen. That you are loved for exactly who are you and for specifically who you are. So you keep being you. Because that is love. We are here to share love. That’s it.