Who Will



Who Will?


Celebrate yourself

I’ve heard it said,

Give thanks for all you’ve


Self-love and all.

Not an easy prescription,

It’s so much easier

To self-loathe,

To berate

For mistakes and slips,

To wallow in self-pity

And forget

My goodness.

With time and age

I learn everyday

If I can’t,

If I don’t celebrate myself

Who will?

If I don’t show gratitude

To myself,

Honoring the work I’ve done,

And how far I’ve come

Why would anyone else?

It’s good to ask myself

Would I treat my dearest friend

This way?

If the answer is no

Time to change the tune.


Not Really Missing



Not Really Missing


What happens

When you feel

You’ve forgotten who you are

When your self seems

Far away,

Yet you don’t feel empty

No feeling sad.

Just aware

Something is missing inside.

You sit and ponder

Listening to what’s going on

Because the din of life

Has been overshadowing

Everything for a while now.

Things have been wonderful

But I’m ready for some solitude

Some peaceful meditation

A return to my soul.

Then I realize

I haven’t forgotten,

Nothing is missing,

Life just requires different pieces

At different times.

I’m completely whole

But need only draw on certain

Parts for what life demands right now.

It’s why there is no pain, no sadness.

Nothing to be sad about,

Only a slight nostalgic longing for something

Simmering away quietly on the back burner

While other pots take the foremost flames.

From the Sea



From the Sea


Footsteps in the sand

Lead me to the ocean

Where I meet my soul

Laughing in the waves

Diving to the depths

To learn the truth.

I witness joy

As the morning sun plays

Across the beach,

Turning it into a million

Sparkling jewels.

I hear the music

In my dreams

Calling me back to the sea.

So I walk along in darkness

Lit only by a streak of moonlight

To the sand that warms my feet

And takes me to a watery home.

The power, the strength

Of my soul comes through and

From the sea

So too does

The mystery, the ancient wisdom.

I come back to

Whom I really am

With the help of the sea.

Solace in Light



Solace in Light


Candles whisper in the wind

Lighting all our sorrows

Carrying prayers

On waves of heat

Out into the atmosphere.

We look for comfort there

Sometimes finding it

Others finding naught

But empty flickers

Of a white hot flame.

We reach for meaning in the darkness

We reach for solace in the light,

Often forgetting

To reach within ourselves

For both meaning and solace.

In Silence



In Silence


We sit in silence

Finding discomfort

As we meet ourselves.

As words dwindle

We are left

With what’s inside

Emotions we neglected

In the noise of the day.

To meet ourselves


Creates connection.

Silence makes us vulnerable

Open to what may decide to surface

Within our hearts.

In the silence

We must face all we covered

With the noise.

Allowing silence to fill us

To open us up

To nothingness

Can be fear inducing.

I welcome silence

While fearing what it may bring.


For the first time I sat in silence for a Quaker meeting and was inspired to write this. I found the silence to be refreshing but it also reminded me how difficult silence can be.


How does silence make you feel?

You Are Home



You Are Home


I fly the skies

All day

Exploring the world

Spreading my reach

To the ends of the earth.

But every day comes to an end

Night begins to fall.

When that happens

I make my way home

To you.

It doesn’t matter

Where you are

What building you’re in

What state,

Just only that you are.

Home is where my love is,

That is you.

All my wanderings

Terminate temporarily at you,

My heart sleeps soundly with you

I’d travel twice around the world

Just to find where you are.

You are home to me,

I’ll always be where you are,

Until my travels carry me afar

But I’ll always come back.


So here you can choose who it is that I am coming home to, another person or a deeper part of myself. Both are present, both are true, both apply. Coming home to yourself is a wonderful thing, it means that no matter where you are, you are home and that is a comforting thing.

When have you found someone to come home to?

I Am/not My Story



I Am/Not My Story


Somewhere in my story

I can be found.

In all the birthdays

Scraped knees,

In all the sicknesses,


Somewhere I am.

A sum total of

My experiences

As well as each

Contributing factor.

I am the quilt

And each thread

Knit together.

I am the story

I am the space between.

Divorce me from my story

I am no longer whole,

Sink me exclusively in my story

I drown.

Accept me as a compilation

A complicated mix of

A million parts.

You need not know

Each of the million

Just acknowledge they exist.


Since I have been meeting so many new people in the past two weeks I have been thinking how we are and are not our stories. How our stories are a huge part of who we are and yet we also are so much more than our stories.

What stories make up part of you?