My heart seeks
A place of safety
Not to hide, but to sing
At first, quietly to myself
until deep joy
Overflows
and I can sing
out loud with
Confidence
Hearing my voice
mingling with others
none looking to
stir up conflict
but instead, each one
pursuing lasting peace
Sharing a poem from Thanksgiving, 2020.
Sentiments remain the same.
Wishing you a week of thankfulness and peace. 🧡🕊💛
Rolling flutters
of soft purples and
sweet floral aromas
call tiny tarsus
in for a landing—
Fortitude in frailty
for both Iris and Bee.
Wings excitedly buzz.
Precious nectar and
baskets of pollen are
carefully collected—
Valuable resources for
sharing and sustaining
a beautiful partnership.
Security in the hope
of their survival
across the flourishing
of each new rolling
purple flutter and
tiny buzzing bee.
I don’t want to leave.
But leaving is
part of living.
A visit to my
childhood home,
means leaving my
current home.
Not a permanent
leaving, only a
temporary absence.
But that visit,
sweet as it may be,
adds to my collection
of memories.
An album already full
to overflowing.
That’s the beauty
and the heartache.
A lingering hug
that says Stay awhile–
No way of knowing when
we will have another.
My hands are beginning
to remind me of Mom’s-
Her hands remind me
of Grandma’s
Skin grows thinner
Simple bruises turn
unreasonably large and
take longer to heal
But wear and tear is
proof of living life
to its fullest, right?
And our hands serve as
an extension of our hearts
When my fists unclench
Anger is easily released
When my hand lingers,
gently holding yours,
hurts quickly disappear
An excess of love
and kindness
graciously offered
as precious proof
A beautiful paradox-
Strength in weakness
A swath of deep, dark
purple appeared, the
top layer of sunrise,
oranges and golds
rising underneath.
The horizon, their
steady starting line.
The nearby Morning Star
inscribed words of comfort
in silver lettering across the layers.
Here I am. You are not alone.
Words I have received,
written down, and shared
on many occasions.
But today, for a moment,
It felt as though I was
receiving them for the first time.
Why these words this morning?
Perhaps to reinforce a truth
experienced in recent days
as a renewed promise.
Even when all is not well,
You will be okay
Enjoying a few days in Chicago. My first visit! Grateful for time away with the guy pictured below. 😘
A tightening in the
center of my chest
A knot in my gut
Breathe
A few moments of relief
And then with no warning
A tightening in the
center of my chest
A knot in my gut-
Add in a little race
between my pulse
and my thoughts-
Breathe deeper
Take a drink of water
Tell someone how I’m feeling
The cycle may continue
a little longer
but I’m no longer
circling it alone
I often speak of writing as a type of therapy. I’m able to get feelings on paper without speaking the words.
I have not written about anxiety and depression in a while. But today was tough. Anxiety was knocking down the door.
If you happen to also be there, you are not alone.
Much love,
Kelley
Graceful arms propel her forward
Legs gently float behind
Feet periodically kick-
Not forceful, only enough
to maintain momentum
Where is she heading?
Storm clouds line the horizon
She’s passed through them before
Impossible to avoid-
And time, impossible to control
The bright sun warms her face
Grace holds her heart
Mercy lifts her soul
Momentum is maintained
Perhaps the question is not
where she is headed
but instead, how she
sustains a spirit of peace
A gaggle of geese
flying overhead in
perfect formation
A formation of clouds
branching out across
the sky at sunrise
The branches of a tree
securely holding leaves
until their time to fall
Your hand holding mine
filling the empty spaces
between my fingers
Images comparable
in angle and purpose-
open and strong
Unexpected gifts
healing my heart
with their presence
From our very first reach,
we leave lasting imprints
Tiny fingers, tiny toes
unaware of the enduring
impact engraved on
all who hold us close
Choice eventually becomes
part of the equation-
Deciding if what we leave behind
is positive, helpful, encouraging,
or cynical, hurtful, disheartening
Each imprint is personal
an identifying set of
lines and ridges
creating a pattern-
Sacred responsibility
held in every touch
I saw such a fingerprint
in the afternoon clouds-
Lines and ridges
creating a pattern
belonging to the one
who holds the sky
Sometimes, relief for
anxious hearts is held
in surprising places
Have you ever sat
in a chair beside
the hospital bed of
someone you love?
The steady beep
of a heart monitor
mapping the tempo
of each precious breath
The gentle curves
of a stable pulse line
repeated over and over
reporting all is well
Peace surfaces alongside fear
I have experienced
this peace at other
times, in other places
A morning row of clouds,
their gentle undulation
performing a steady beat
underneath the warmth
of a brilliant sunrise
A skyline of treetops
grown together through
storms, their silhouette
a uniform motif of peace
painted across the horizon
Sometimes, relief for
anxious hearts is held
in surprising places
Peace surfaces alongside fear
Piano Girl 