Wonder.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Girl, you are a wonder.  Can I leave it at that?  So simple and true.  I think I will leave it there.  Girl, you are a wonder.

Day 22 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Fly.

You, fly, buzzing in my ear.  I hear you.  I see you.  I guess I just don't care.  Reminding me that this season has a handful of things that I just can't care about, even if they bug me.  Sorry, fly.  Not sorry, fly.

Day 21 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Anything.

Her bones wail in their longing for rest, yet they move and move and move some more.  They would do anything for them.

Day 20 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Dragon Eyes.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

Those dragon eyes watch over the unkempt garden.  A watch dog of sorts.  Just wish you'd pull the weeds.

Day 19 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Smoker Laugh.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Intentional time.  Something so hard to come by in a full, full season.  She holds my hand while we order t-shirts, she pulls me through parking lots feeling my sense of urgency--not the ugly sense, but the wild, fun sense--, and she sees all those details.  She leans over and asks, "Is that like a fun house funny mirror?" pointing to the curved, shiny metal on the back of the espresso machine.  Yes, my darling, it is sticking my tongue out knowing it will make her laugh her smoker woman laugh.  Intentional time and that laugh.

Day 18 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Cul-de-sac.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

The road never seems long.
To you it is always fun.
Down and loop and back.

Cul-de-sac, love.
You see so many of our miles.
Down and loop and back.

My feet pound the road.
Your feet, though, go round and round.
I'm sore, you are free.

Pitch time to the stars.
Your squeals are my favorite.
Down and loop and back.

Day 17 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Junk Drawer.

Our junk drawer used to be just that, junk.  Fighting it open one evening last year, it became evident that it needed to go.  It needed organization, it needed beautification, it needed someone to swoop in and pick-up the strewn pieces.  Much like us, really.

I think of that junk drawer often.  For well over a year now, it has kept its' refined form.  Funny, but I pull open that drawer and a sense of peace washes over me.  The mayhem of the moment is somehow not all that trying. 

Thank you, junk drawer, for being the most mundane thing that kills me with delight and points me to the only One who not only picks up my strewn pieces, but who delights in my refined, pieced together form.

I am telling you, go clean the junk drawer.

Day 16 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.


 

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