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I’m writing about moving again, and when I write about moving, I really mean beginning. I’m beginning again.

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

Live Morning Myself Quiet Secret Wake Up
I allow myself to be a weathervane; receive every feeling that greets the shore of me.
SCHUYLER

Allow Feeling Greatness Myself
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

Practice Promise Purpose Recognition Space
This does not have to be a hard life to love. There is not enough time to let it stray too far from my hands.
SCHUYLER

Enough Hands Hard Life Love Myself Time
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

Enough Ghost Listening Morning Myself Walk
I’m remembering again, how loneliness has always made me brave.
SCHUYLER

Brave Lonely Myself Remember
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

Company Floor Hands Leaving Myself Uncertain
Meet me where happiness doesn’t feel like a false spring.
SCHUYLER

Fake Feeling Happiness Myself Spring
I want to wade into the water on the sidewalk, crawl out of this feeling without giving it a name. Take a lighter to love’s sticky edges so its sadness isn’t caught in my throat.
SCHUYLER

Catch Myself Name Sadness Water
I still know the fabric of where I begin and end.
SCHUYLER

Beginning End Fabric Myself
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

Believe Better Choice Forever Myself Remember
We’re in spring and I have learned how to be gentle and sharp; strong bark on budding trees. Hold out your hands. I’ll leave a pink kiss and a pocket knife.
SCHUYLER

Hands Learning Leaving Myself Sharp Spring
My love lives in my cheeks – gives me away by the first smile. all the lines from years spent laughing, warm with extra freckles in the summer; a poker face that doesn’t keep once my knees fold.
SCHUYLER

Face Live Love Myself Smile Summer
In a dream, my fingertips pulse. I’ll be patient in my blooming. In a dream, I let time pass through open hands.
SCHUYLER

Bloom Dreams Hands Healing Myself Open Patience Self Love Time
I’d get lost in this green, ferns leaning against the trees, soil stuck to my feet, never dream of finding my way back again.
SCHUYLER

Dreams Lost Myself Tree Way
Yes, this life is mine, but more often I watch it take place and my hands feel too far away to touch it.
SCHUYLER

Hands Life Myself Place Touch

I’m writing about moving again, and when I write about moving, I really mean beginning. I’m beginning again.

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I’m writing about moving again, and when I write about moving, I really mean beginning. I’m beginning again.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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