- unburdened
A heart unburdened
does not truly feel, as some
weight’s necessary.
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Day 14
omnia mea mecum porto,
heavy are the things I need.
when I arrive I’ll set them down and
finally unburdened be.
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Waking up in the morning,
feeling coffee and citrus on my tongue.
Soft grass underneath my feet,
suddenly becoming weightless.
Sprouting imagined wings,
becoming
unburdened.
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A representation of my fixing of work equipment this evening, finally getting some of the lights to turn off (and turning all of them off in the process), unburdening myself of that particular problem.
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15: Love, stirring
The way the morning light shines upon her hair.
the small soft breaths that she takes as she sleeps.
the warmth of her laughter, the slight shock from her touch.
the way her eyes light up, and the shine in her smile.
All these things begin taking your notice.
slowly at first, then all at once.
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15: Love, stirring
She held my hand lightly on her chest, just over her heart, mirroring where my own beat, stinging sharp. We stopped breathing for a moment in deep silence, dusk now too dark to see our faces, and I felt tears of fear and delight well up as something ferocious and fragile and undeniable in me–opened. She breathed out shaky, and I knew she felt it, too.
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Love, stirring
I am dappled light on forest floor
He is wave-broke moon on water
And winter. Silver cold fire
I am hint of wind and echo
Not sought or seen but found
He is heart of oak, unbending
And his feet are in the ground
I am leaves in wind and laughter
He is still in night and quiet
We are swaying
We are dancing
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- love, stirring
It was finally quiet; they were all finally asleep. It had been a long, long night. The littlest one was fussy; he missed his mama. The older two didn’t go down without a fight, but that’s how they were. It was their age. You’d be surprised if they didn’t try to push the boundaries, bend the rules, try to talk their way out of bedtime.
The littlest one didn’t have words to do that, so he just cried. He cried and cried, until he felt two arms lift him out of the crib and hold him. He calmed, and stayed calm once he was brought to his parents’ bed. They lay there, the two of them, father and son, missing the boy’s mama. The baby slept and the daddy watched him. He wondered what his tiny son dreamt of, as had when the other two were small. He watched him breath in and breath out. He watched him until the boys mama came home, and he kissed her goodnight on the lips. He watched the baby boy sleep as she got ready for bed.
He never told her, and he never told anyone: these tough nights made something move in his chest. These tough nights made him love them each even more.
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A college crush came up with a character for his Halloween-adjacent radio show.
I wrote a screenplay about him for one of our classes our last semester.
Picture credit to a classmate who doodled on the cover page of the copy she made notes in.
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16: Patience, Striving
Here I am, waiting for time to end.
I finished my exam an hour ago, so i’m without something to do.
im antsy, and i’ve checked over my notes.
maybe i just need to be patient.
my patience frays, but i hold it together.
I want to know how i did, but that wont be for a while.
so i decide to meditate.
striving for peace and a stronger sense of patience.
i breathe deeply, hum a bit to myself,
and i find some zen.
patience and calm in the storm of urgency and anxiety.
it holds for a few moments, perfectly still
and then the proctor calls for time,
my concentration breaks,
and i’m back into the storm of immediacy.
but that peace never really leaves me.
It’s easier to find that strength of patience now.
first a deep breath, take it all in.
let myself find my patience,
and let my peace be free.
find my ability to relax and wait.
waiting for the next call of time.
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Patience, striving
I planted some seeds of supposing back around Imbolc.
Something tried to make a snack out of the couple tiny sprouts that popped up.
I put another set in there about a month ago.
The photo is from today.
I can wait.
[spoiler]Or waiting for a Secret Society clue to be directed at me. 
[/spoiler]
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Welcoming the morning…
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Welcoming The Morning
As dawn crests the hills,
and the light mixes like creme and coffee in the sky,
the fires are extinguished.
The tribes awake,
in a brilliance of color
like a disturbed colony of exotic birds
Hands sent up into the sky as The Common Drum Beat grows louder
feeling aether dance between their fingers
Beginning to unbuild their houses, and journey somewhere new.
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Music in the dawn
Birds greeting the day
Interrupted
By the drone and crash
Of garbage trucks
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17: Welcoming the Morning
Hail to the sun, breaking through my window panes.
shining with a beautiful color in the morning air.
warmth spreads across the earth as light bring color back into our world.
welcome, morningtide, welcome fresh dew.
may the day be greeted with open eyes and open arms.
18: A Light Pursued
the light is high, a constant presence in my mind.
even in the depths of darkness and negativity, i see light up on the hill.
i follow it, pursue it, trek wherever it may take me.
tracking the light, my warmth, my Further Flame.
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