heart and soul

i’m reading women who run with the wolves. it’s evoking a need to do a whole lot of looking inward. discovering who i am while travelling the curves of this lifetime of feeling and seeing and doing. the learning never stops. the love and soul-work never stops. every breath unravels new answers. it’s self-discovery it’s choosing to know. every minute we can make space for more awareness, joy, heart and soul. life is so precious.

i dream to pass the time

it’s all become clear.
i get it.
i see it!
you feel
what i feel
what you feel.

from near and from [this painfully] far.
i get it i see it. and it’s love. it’s our love.
oh my darling! it’s our big, big love.
and even still,
it’s even more.

spring sun

but that’s the exact thing, i didn’t push you away. i didn’t make mountains out of molehills and try too hard to find it. it just came, landed lightly on my heart, and breathed an air of freshness into my soul.

my knees collapsed as my heart exploded into tiny particles of happiness, into small slivers of supposed-to-be, slicing their way through memories of remembering.

it feels oh so easy.


my spirit aches. for connectedness. an intrusion of light into my soul that burns and yearns and hungers for life. for adventure. for love. for plans that don’t, and never will, exist.

and then all at once, it unravels. like trying made it worse, struggling made knots tighter, the tangle a mess.



dry off my heart. it’s beating heavy now.

you’ll find me in your footsteps, in your swallows, in the shallows of your eyes. i’m everywhere you are. 

stop looking,
and feel.

this isn’t a dream, not anymore. it’s my new real life. 

i pinch myself and laugh.

my lips and yours

go on and fold my hair through your fingertips. brush my cheek with your warm hand. find me, see me, swallow me in wordlessness.

dear lover, it’s the gentlest touch that pulls my heart from easy resting. you’ll find a poem in the rhythm of the smallest beating moments. in the silence hear the melody. in the chaos bring me home.

my lover, dear lover, won’t you sing me to sleep. with the sweet smell of spring, and us, tangled in limbs.


i miss you. like an unending story of heartbreak, pain and soul-wrenching, gut-churning, complete, wretched, unfortunate loss.

wipe tiny tears from the edges of my heart.

you sit so quietly, always, in the back of my imagination.