Posts tagged #Growth

desolate (adj).


I looked around the Mojave Desert
and could resonate with its shape and structure -
I bring my hands to the curve of my ribs
they encompass like the mountain range encompasses
all of the dusty houses made of clay,
the dunes match the sand in my stomach,
the heat is unyielding not unlike the fire
that was started in my chest
and makes it difficult at times to swallow.

I looked around the Mojave Desert
and could resonate with its shape and structure -
I think about how my heart feels dried up,
its lips and skin so dry they are cracking, 
and then I brought my eyes to the cracks between
the rocks and think, “things grow here, see,
even in the driest places, even when the
rain forgets to visit, even here
the flowers insist on surviving,
even here the trees, jagged on their way up
rise closer to the sun.” 

conifer (n).


I now understand the growing of trees, 
their rings showing all of the ways
they have survived their previous selves. 

I now understand what it is like
to watch all of the color fall out and away
and wonder if there will be
another day that the wind will
brush through your hair and write
a song with the sound, and wonder
even what the ground is made of
that you were planted in, surely
this isn't god's green earth. 

I now understand the growing of trees,
their branches spilling out of them like arms
reaching for contact, reaching:
is there a posture more defiant
to any force trying to make them
recoil back into winter's cold breath?

sapling (n).

This is us as trees: 
I want dearly
to be mighty with
confidence in my
place and gentle in my response
to what gusts may come. 

You are made of oak
and earth with
branches dipped low
for easy footholds for
the child in you
if you'd invite him to play. 

And, planted by the riverbank, 
we just now see that
our roots can reach the water
and in spring it shows
in our budding canopies
the work we've done
to keep ourselves alive
during this winter. 

the word project recap part two: tension.

a6c1d1a041c8f23948b82a2f23527485In my thoughts and feelings I can often feel so binary: being an extrovert but needing space to mull things over, needing to share but needing to burrow, being afraid of everything but being afraid of becoming nothing. Craving wild adventures but loving the comfort of routine. Here are some insights into the wrestling of our hearts: stubborn (adj). "I was a child and wanted to prove to the world - anything."

scale (n) "There is so much to think on and decide, there is so much to weigh and sift, my love, so much flashing in front of my eyes, that is what is distracting me: everything and all of it weighs heavy, and that is why for me it all takes time."

churn (v). "It all seems to come to a boil at once...the sudden necessity for the stormy waves when all you see is glass waters."

revelation (n). "And the strange grooves all form a funny track in the middle of your chest, either etching toward What You Choose Because Of Fear, or, Where You Go Because It Sets Your Heart on Fire.| "And I want to be a girl ablaze."

contention (n).  "I need stillness, and silence for miles... I want the whole world and I want just here."

resolution (n). "...and to find treasure even in these simple days that are building into so much, and so tall a tower."

reverence (n).

6d8caee553a49afdfa03ef353d0e6f20I have lost the religion of my childhood, and in its place is this ever playing hymn of a Creator that is Mystery in the most beautiful and free way. How silly of us to think that He could be at all encompassed and summed up by- anything, that we have created to make us think that we could get it all figured out.

transfigure (v).

c0b8374069b62250d6ecb257b69df122I am not who I once was; I have had many moments in this autumn where I do an action I have done before, or I go back to a place I have already been, and I have a distinct moment where I say, "I have changed," and also, "I am no longer the same." It is like falling asleep on a boat, and you wake up and someone has been sailing it for hours further and further out to sea. I have seen water, but this water, this deep, this far, at these coordinates, water is not what it once was, out here in the wild.

steep (v).


I think I am melting. I can feel the glue in my bones dissolving, and things are starting to go through me, like if you were to toss a pebble toward me it might not bounce immediately off, like if you were to tell me "this must be so" it would float for quite a while without attaching itself. It is not a fading but a joining to more things, like I am not my own, this story is not my own, and I must become tender in order to adhere. I think I am melting, and let it be so, because it is less like dissipating and more like a great thaw, less like a crumbling tower and more like a river. And unlike an ocean that fights back and forth to stay ashore, a river only has one direction, joining with the soft brooks and the lustful rapids, choral with the birds and thunderous like a justice song.

trace (n).

34832cea312f3f04e14c51a95ab85f17We don't realize how far we've come until we experience a landmark that indicates it; how, in the smallest degrees, we can go from being one way or feeling one thing or being consumed with a certain idea, and then, somehow, we grow and we change, like waking up at night, and watching the light in the room shift, slowly, slowly, along the shadows on the walls and in the corners, until, somehow, it suddenly becomes morning.