I know I could be an astronomer of this swooning.
SCHUYLERFor now, I’ll bring what I can to my own four walls. I recognize the purpose, the promise of this: a church is made by its space, by its practices.
More Schuyler Quotes
-
-
I’ll craft a haven that that cradles every joy and sorrow, but doesn’t hold them to keep.
SCHUYLER -
For now, I’ll bring what I can to my own four walls. I recognize the purpose, the promise of this: a church is made by its space, by its practices.
SCHUYLER -
Meet me where happiness doesn’t feel like a false spring.
SCHUYLER -
I descend into an unopened sky, the ocean floor, the final embrace of a graveyard. Find your fill of me before my blue pales like a sour moon.
SCHUYLER -
I will still live like a ghost in the mornings; walking, listening, pouring coffee to finish sometime by the afternoon, when I’ve had enough of watching the world and do all I can to live in it.
SCHUYLER -
I never lose pieces of me, I just gain new understanding.
SCHUYLER -
I sit on the bare floor, leave my palms unturned, and watch relief pool into one hand, and uncertainty in the next. I will try not to lean more one way or another, but let them hold each other as company.
SCHUYLER -
I’m choosing to believe things are getting better again. The give and take of joy, remembering a few days of ache does not mean forever.
SCHUYLER -
I’m remembering again, how loneliness has always made me brave.
SCHUYLER -
The world will be loud again. I’ll notice the loneliness less.
SCHUYLER -
There will be a time where this hurts less and it will not mean it didn’t matter. It means that in the face of feeling something precious slip in my hands, I will always find a way back to myself.
SCHUYLER -
Hold me here, where I feel less like a stranger to my own laughter. Where it’s easier to believe things happen for a reason or maybe, at least, out of a thousand winding roads my life might take, I will still find one that fits me.
SCHUYLER -
I’m thinking about how early the spring flower buds rise up from the grass; just barely on winter’s heels. How uncomfortable, how cold the soil must be, still half-frosted, when the roots start to take shape.
SCHUYLER -
Some mornings, I like to live like a secret; wake as quietly as I can, slip out of bed without so much as a wrinkle.
SCHUYLER -
Please come here, but not too close.
SCHUYLER