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Where Order Meets Wild
I am both the keeper of calendars and the barefooted wonder. A poem for the ones who write grocery lists with stardust and plant daisies into their planners, where order meets wild.
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Something Holy
I don’t want a map. I want to get lost in something holy. A poem for the ones who ache for the unknown, who would rather be undone by mystery than comforted by certainty.
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Too Much, They Might Say
Sometimes I wonder if I express gratitude too much, or if others think I do. But still, I keep saying it. As if one more thank you might steady the world, or soften the heart of someone else trying to hold on to beauty.
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Gratitude
A quiet meditation on the small, sacred moments that open the heart to gratitude, from the snore of a dog to the hush of morning light spilling over the land.
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After the Storm
Some storms leave behind their fingerprints…
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Maybe I Am Here……
A quiet confession from the edge of a mountain valley … maybe I’m here to let the wild colors bloom, to love out loud, to finally ruin my good reputation … with joy.