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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

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
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’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
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
I’ll craft a haven that that cradles every joy and sorrow, but doesn’t hold them to keep.
SCHUYLER

Craft Happiness Hold Myself Sorrow
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
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
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 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

Floor Grave Moon Ocean Open Sky Yourself
Your anger, your sorrow, your fear, are okay to feel through, no matter how big it feels now.
SCHUYLER

Anger Fear Feeling Sorrow Yourself
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
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

Face Feeling Finding Hurt Myself Precious Time Way
I still know the fabric of where I begin and end.
SCHUYLER

Beginning End Fabric Myself
I never lose pieces of me, I just gain new understanding.
SCHUYLER

Lose Myself Perspective Pieces Understand
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

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.

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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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