i swear there’s gold in those hills / acres are plenty in heart.

photos by jon canlas
this time of year, my thoughts shake and scatter. i muse and mull and look for meaning in every nuance.
i play piano again, pick up poetry, write messy words from wondering thoughts.
then there are late nights, piled up deadlines, cups of coffee . . . tangled like string.
knit me a reminder saying, season by season, for such a time as this.
i need rest. a place, the space, to breathe. just be filled.
i don't know what it will look like. i know what it will hold.
slowness. resting. being honest with myself and others. simplifying.
stretching and breathing through everything.

it's been a tough season. not leaves falling, pumpkins and orchards, hot apple cider season.
but this here and now place, these weeks winding around and around into months.
i've been living with so many layers. going through the whole gamut of emotions.

this is what i want

depth and richness
not shallowness and instant gratification -- fleeting
i want lasting
and there are cadences to that
bittersweetness rolling around on your tongue.
sorrow ringing and laughter singing and gratitude stretching through your soul, morning by morning.
i want the pauses that come between heartbreak and joy.
i want the evenings of weeping.
i want the afternoons of growing.
i want the hard days of planting, the long years of process and practice and belief.
i want to sow hope deep in my soul for the white walled years like winter winds.

i need the habit. the hours of work and wrestling. discipline.
to find myself remembering seeds grow unnoticed, at first.
walking barefoot in the fall with the smell of earth heavy, turning, changing.
i want to see that picture as a poem for my life.

able to see mundane as meaningful. turn routine into ritual. live wide eyed.
notice and laugh. notice and weep.
notice and work. notice and rest.
notice and make. notice and sing.
turning each sweeping breath into a prayer of thank you, thank you, thank you.
until there is no longer a hollow ache, a knotted lump, a tightness. but openness, depth, rest.

seasons and seeking and seeing.

further up, further in.