
and then what happened?
i’m not sure, that’s all i remember…
(taking a small break, will see everyone next week, be safe and well)

and then what happened?
i’m not sure, that’s all i remember…
(taking a small break, will see everyone next week, be safe and well)

you are long dead,
but my sorrow lives

i search for safe docking,
while the ropes are still strong enough to hold us

there are times,
when one small part of a story
is all that really needs to be told

i tied happiness to my soul
and let it lift me
gently above the storm

solitude has a very particular sound

the beauty of decay and neglect
can sometimes bring the comfort
of peace and acceptance

i am a tiny porcelain dish
painted over a hundred years,
i’ve overheard passionate whispers,
witnessed happiness and tears,
held silver rings and sparkling things
that were ever loved and dear–
now i have landed here,
cradling an old quartz crystal,
in the quiet morning light–
a midnight perch awaiting
the flight of night-time sprites

I thanked you when you paid me a compliment, but I’m not sure that I fully understood what that compliment would do to me until many days, if not weeks later.
It was a statement, made without explanation, without judgment or pity. It was just plainly, a nice thing to say. And you said it to me, a visiting stranger who was secretly a little afraid of you.
The peculiar and beautiful irony isn’t lost on me: a simple compliment from an unknown man (who happens to be a mental patient) came my way. It was so very basic and yet so very complicated.
I could tell this story in a humorous and self-deprecating context the next time I have dinner with friends, and they would all laugh and shake their heads at me. But I won’t, because I’m taking this experience to another place entirely. Just a small place of gratitude.
When I see you again, I will gladly talk to you, because you were kind and made me smile and you taught me a humble lesson that I will keep close to my tender heart forever.

what did they find at the end of the path?
were there answers?
were there solutions?
was the way clear,
the sky cloudless?
did the dragonflies finally speak?
did a bridge miraculously appear?
did the water turn to ice,
a solid foundation for the rest of the journey?
or did they jump and simply swim?