“Maybe we could begin entwined – not whole – but one again.”

Dear curiosity, I wish you wished the best for me.

And in the shard of fleeting vision, everything I once feared tastes like stolen magic.

Let’s go slow dancing around the kitchen, listening to the sound of dawn by the back roads and let our shadows paint the walls.

Whatever it is however bad I’m so glad you’re still here.

You were the star in my life but now its my time to shine.

I hope one day your paper cranes grow up in dreams and fly away.

I shouldn’t have to dream of losing you to hold you all closer in the morning.

It may have killed the cat but curiosity is what keeps me alive.

Open your eyes to the bottomless sky that teases omnipresence and know that you are my beyond.

You danced the fine line between graceful and reckless and this is what I wake to wait for.

I spy a life on fire and taken for granted by me.

Needing leave clumsy me – spilling mustard on my sleeve as cover-up for all the talk of love.

You and your sea glass green kaleidoscope eyes have always been my kryptonite.

We’re outsiders- you and I- we could almost be brilliant.

I hope your lemonade tastes like young summers and old times.

Things will change – that’s the best and worst of it.

Now I begin to be a disciple. Let fire and cross, flocks of beasts, broken bones, dismemberment come upon me, so long as I attain to Jesus Christ.

We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be.

Begin to listen to what you say. Don’t say anything that you don’t want to become true for you.

When the air begins to turn colder, a warmth grows in my core that says – it’s time to start new.

Prayer begins by talking to God, but it ends by listening to Him. In the face of Absolute Truth, silence is the soul’s language.

An affirmation opens the door. It’s a beginning point on the path to change.

When the leaves begin to fall, I find myself returning to old playlists in hopes that I can feel you holding my hand, or kissing me goodnight, or hear you singing my name into songs and blueing when it makes no sense.

Exactly at the instant when hope ceases to be reasonable it begins to be useful.