Dear Daughter

Dear daughter,

I pray that you will see the beauty in life: the wonder in the world around you. I hope that you will dream, and dream big. There's a quote that says, "If your dreams don't scare you, they aren't big enough," and I believe wholeheartedly that this is true. Read fairy tales; believe in magic; hope, pray and love without ceasing. Above all, believe in the God who created not only the universe (woven together in perfect harmony), but you (perfect as well). 

Don't allow the opinion of others to corrupt the opinion of God. Always remember that your worth is found in the Savior, in His love. He sent His son to die for you; that's real love. Learn from that... and get on loving!  Love is scary. Don't be too quick to give your heart away. You deserve the world, so don't settle for any less. But don't shut yourself off to the idea of love either, and don't be too pigheaded to let it in on God's timing. Remember, He knows better than we do, and He will let everything play out as it should, when it should. Don't be too quick to give up, but know when to let go.

Always turn to God in prayer. Spend time alone with God, even when you are busy, take time to be alone with the Father. You need to be filled up to fill others, to deal with this crazy life.

Don't be afraid to feel deeply. Emotions are a good thing... they let you know that you're alive. Tears cleanse the soul more than you know.  Don't dismiss anyone before you get to know them. You could be passing up some great friends if you do. Speak up for yourself. Don't over-analyze every little thing that happens. Talk directly to your friends, not behind their back.

Don't forget the past, but don't dwell in it either. Learn from your mistakes, then move on. Life is happening all around you, and I would hate for you to miss it. And for heaven's sake, stop criticizing yourself. You are a beautiful child of God. Please, please, please don't ever hurt your body. Don't deny it food; don't over feed it; don't create scars that you feel you need to hide.  If people don't like you for who you are, who you're meant to be, then tough! You're awesome, and don't you ever forget it.

Be sure to have a place all your own... make it if you have to. Bury it deep in your art, your craft, your writing, reading, whatever. Fill a space with the things that make you happy, that make you feel like yourself; then defend it with tight fists. 

Be thankful in everything, for everything. Life is an adventure. Each new obstacle is an opportunity in disguise. Don't close yourself off to new opportunities because of the influence of this world. 1 John 4:16, 18 says, "God is love. Whoever lives in love, lives in God, and God in Him. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear... we love because God first loved us." The God who made the stars twinkle, the moon shine and beautiful intricate butterflies, made you. He loves you with a perfect love. Let that perfect love cast out your fear.  

And always know that you are beautiful. Laugh often. Pray always, without ceasing and with all your heart. And know that even when you don't think you are beautiful, I do. And even more importantly, God does. He loves you, so I pray that you would love yourself as well. He has a plan.

Always.

*This letter was inspired by Maya Angelou's Letter to my Daughter, Lisa Smith and mothers everywhere.*

One Day

I could tell you what I'm thinking.
I could let you in on my secret thoughts.
I could open up and show you the scars.
I could even share my heart.

And maybe one day,
I will.

Without Title, Heavy on Emotion

Emotions are zooming,
sputtering... gearing up.

And I am unprepared,
not sufficiently stocked
for a storm.

Get a grip,
hold on tight...

Batten down the hatches;
get ready for the waves.

On a Branch

The heavy air is stagnant,
hanging around my door
without promise of ever
moving.

And perhaps, at one time,
I would call myself stagnant
as well...

but not anymore.
This isn't stagnant;
this is strategy.

I wait and think:
preparing for what lies ahead,
as much as I possibly could from
my current perch
in the present.

For now, I sleep...
until I wake with the dawn,
ready to face a new day.

Tide

The music filled every crevice,
making the humid air even heavier.
It seeped into my heart,
washing it clean.

Exhale

I'm not so sure
if I want to dream
tonight.

But still,
I close my eyes
and allow myself
to drift.

Yellow

I am not yellow.
I am not feeling blue.
Green is too harsh;
it doesn't suit me, either.

No, today I am teal;
subtle, but vibrant.

I am also orange,
passionately on fire.

I will never be yellow.

Perched for Flight

A bird perched on a post
in the middle of an open field
stares at me as if he knows
something I don't.

With a swift movement
he raises his blue sky wings,
chirps into the sky and
makes his exit into the clouds.

And a string in my heart tugs,
as I realize that the bird was
reminding me
of my own ability
to fly.

June Twenty-Second

Sun-dogs lounge 

in a lazy, evening sky

over this small town;

their colors but a whisper,

peeking out from clouds

on a faint blue horizon.

Morning

Wisps of hair blow
in the swift breeze
through my window
on a warm, morning
commute.

Music fills the air,
my mind and
my heart. But they
are like storm clouds
in a blue sky;

with one flick of
my wrist, I switch
compact discs,
turn the volume up
and blow the clouds
away.

Here

And the memories play on overdrive; 

a playbill on my nightstand,

music playing in the car,

a line in a book about someone, somewhere,

and pictures and sounds, here and there

that remind me of anywhere but here.

Here, I remain.

Moment of Impact

Take a breath,
air fills my lungs
and filters into my heart
my mind
my bones

These bones have been
aching lately, crying out
for movement
for impact
for anything

And fresh air fills the room,
blowing in the window
and through my hair,
as I cry out
for movement
for impact
for everything.

Tree Line

The trees 

sway in the wind

deceiving in the dusty blue 

sky that looks cool as an early 

spring night. But this is June and it's 

burning with a fury just like May, April 

and March, for reasons unknown, 

both pleasantand unbearable. 

The stars will twinkle 

above branches

late into

the night,

into early

morning

when the

sun will

rise with

a new

dawn.

The winds will stop, just as they always do. But the heat remains.

Coldplay Moment, III

Wake with a start

sun shining through closed blinds,

at the break of the day

the birds, they sang.

"Start again," I heard them say.

And they're on to something, 

I know they are. I caught on 

long before they knew.

What they don't know,

is that I can fly.

My arms turn wings,
Oh, those clumsy things
Send me up to that wonderful world
And then I'm up with the birds.

Wings

Don't tell me I can't fly.
I'll prove you wrong
every time.

Because these feet weren't
meant to be grounded,
and this heart wasn't made
to be a land dweller.

I have dreams that soar
higher than you'll ever know;

and even on a cloudy day,
I have a Creator with wings
bigger than my own.


*Psalm 91:4a

Some Nights

Some nights you’ll dream about the past. You’ll find yourself lost in a memory that never happened, questioning whether or not you want it to be happening.  You won’t register that you’re asleep, and yet at the same time you’ll subconsciously know. 

Some nights you’ll dream about lost kisses and past loves.  You won’t know where to find yourself, because you’ll be drowning in a dream that could easily have been reality.  You’ll question the validity of your memories, and the sting that they seem to have on certain Tuesdays in April.

Some mornings you’ll wake up confused, trying to remember whether or not you actually just went through the dream that left your sheets tangled, hanging to the floor, and sweat dripping down your forehead.  You’ll lie there, silent, trying to figure out what day it is, breathing in and out as you try to  calm yourself.

Some nights you won't dream at all. The night will stay black, until the sun warms your eyelids to a beautiful, red-orange.  And you'll find it was exactly what you needed.

I Am

“I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.” 
-Sylvia Plath, a troubled yet beautiful soul.
****

I am. It's as simple as that. 

Sometimes it is nice to remember that.

I am a creative soul. When I had lost myself, a dark corner of my life, I was reminded of who I was through poetry. The words seeped into my skin and out of my mouth, scrawled with my pen on paper that had been longing for my words; my words. And just like that, I had found my voice. Such a small part in the big picture, yet huge to me.  If I could find my voice, surely I could locate the rest of myself. 

So I used that voice, over and over again.  I wrote words that felt as natural as the air moving in and out of my lungs.  I painted stories in prose that changed my whole view on life. I breathed in empty space and exhaled magic.  I started to feel like myself, a feeling I'm not sure I ever actually felt.

And, six months in to this year long blogging journey, I thought I would let you all know that it's a pretty great feeling. I'm not saying that the journey to finding myself was easy, nor is it anywhere near complete, but it's my journey and I'm happy to be taking it.

Possible

When I close my eyes
and shut out the voice
that nags me from within;

and I think clearly
opening my mind...

it is in that moment
that I know:

I can do whatever
I set my mind to.

Head Cold

Clouds have been fogging my
mind lately

making the world around a little
gray.

And I guess you could say I haven't
exactly been trying

but I'm clawing my way back to
clear skies

as quickly as I can.

Upward Motion

Labored breaths

and a 

daunting hill

an ache in my side

and in my chest

but the nagging

voice telling me

to quit

is enough to 

make me 

keep going.

So I push on

however slowly

push forward

upward

pause

keep going

you can do this,

a new voice chimes in

You Can Do This

and I believe

that I can.

Hopeful Glances

Off of the interstate, 

between here and there,

was a white house on a hill.

And it sat perched, 

looking over a field of just surfacing corn stalks,

a brilliant green against a bright blue sky, 

dotted with a single, white cloud.

I only got a quick look

as I drove on my merry way,

but it reminded me of summertime. 

And as I drove, 

the sunshine warmed my skin,

and my heart.

Life is fun.

Some nights I stay up 
cashing in my bad luck,
some nights I call it a draw.

Tonight was one of those nights,
one of the nights where we
remembered that

We are young,
that we can set the world on fire;
we can burn brighter than 
the sun.

Some nights I wish that my 
lips could build a castle,
some nights I wish they'd just fall off.

And with wind blowing in the windows,
we remind each other that
It gets better, 
I know it hurts at first,
but it gets better.


It really does.

We realize now that a friend is worth
so much more than we realized
when we were so much younger,

so we use the time we have,
soaking up every minute
while we're young,

clinging on to our right now,
wishing and praying
that it would never change,

even as it inevitably does.





*Inspiration and italicized portions drawn from fun. Some Nights, We Are Young and It Gets Better*

Paint Strokes

Paint slips out of brushes
down the drain after a
much needed...
therapy session.

My mind remains relaxed
from the sigh of relief that
accompanied each stroke
that altered white canvas
into beauty, however
unique.

And I study my yet unfinished
masterpiece, working out
the finishing details on the canvas
in my mind,

even after the lights are turned out,
and he paint is left to dry.

When the Words Won't Come

Sometimes the words just
won't come.

They get stuck tumbling
around my mind,

taking unnecessary meetings
with a heart that is just now
getting to know itself.

And sentences break
into words that break
into memories

that eventually turn into
feelings, a cycle that continues
until nothing remains.

The words are lost;
metaphors meaningless.

But even then,
I remain.

Fleeting

The future is daunting.
But I am fearless now.
...well, almost.

And where my fears surface,
so does my strength.
Where my fearlessness fails,
so does my weakness.

Or at least I'd like to think so.

Memory Bank

She closed my eyes for a second and remembered what she had been trying so hard to forget. Lying still, allowing the memories to rush over her like floodwaters, she felt her heart start to race. That's what happens when you have too much time on your hands; you slip into the wells of your soul and dig up old wishes that never came true.

And even as the wishes clung to her neck, threatening to take her under, she realized that it wasn't all for naught. At least she had the courage to keep wishing, even as the wishes piled like loose change in her piggy bank heart... Even a pile of pennies is worth something.

Mona Lisa's Smile

It's about that half smile,

you know the one.

It creeps across your face,

ever so slightly,

and is gone in a flash.

But it reminds you that

Life is Beautiful,

and so are You.

It happens when you least expect it.

Maybe a song on the radio,

a one-liner tossed between friends;

or even a memory, 

that passes just as quickly.

It's that smile,

that feeling,

that makes it all worth it.

Heart Stereo

She turned the stereo off
this time.

Usually she just changes the
channel;

but not this time.

She couldn't bear to hear the
first line

Of a song that only reminds her
of you.

So she turned the stereo
off.

But her heart knew the words the
stereo

Couldn't say...
Wasn't allowed to say.

The silence couldn't drown them
out.

Nor could the Nebraska air blasting
in the window.

So she turned the stereo on,
put in a mix and sang at the

Top of her lungs.

Moment of Silence

Floating under a blue sky,
watching contrails that
disappear with my train of
thought.

And this moment if beauty
turns my mind from
a never-ending flow to
a blank canvas.

As the sun falls lazily
behind a cloud,
I fall into a moment of pure
bliss, that can only be
explained by the absence
of the background noise of
my thoughts.