A Savored Sip

Freedom eludes
beauty exudes
in each sun streak that washes
against
the silky smooth
crying
mess
that yawns
and breathes
and dictates me

oh how I love him so
in a way I'll never even know

paci in purses
tucked in chairs
paci's hidden everywhere

without them questionable how we would fare

and yet
gently rocked
into a slumber
he rests
all in me
tests
the waters
of quiet
of uninterrupted
of this

this beautiful
beautiful bliss

to be and to do
and to see something through

and not running
have to save
the one
my very being who craves

yes
i love this little one

but how precious is this latte.

Your shoulders are wider

The better to carry you with 

And check out those hips

The better to birth sweet babies with

Whether width

Or weight

Don't be afraid

These changes are intentionally made

We were never meant to stay the same

But change and grow

New things to know

And acceptance of God given 

Woman beauty to sow

//

On accepting a changed and adapting body, post partum

Victory In Jesus

Wouldn't you know. This is a day unlike any other and yet sadly like every other. One day God gives breath, and another breath escapes at last. A sweet sweet friend, Mrs. Ethel Jones, passed away this morning. An amazing and sweet woman who loves this song.

She surely is smiling in Heaven, resting on God's heavenly porch and singing this song with us. She saw much pain and much tragedy and smiled right through it.

//

As a good friend said, "cry, throw yourself a pity party and move forward". [about my hormonal swings]

Here though, I will cry in words, and give it up the Lord. He holds my sweet friend and she is all the better for being there. I will miss her always.

//

There was a porch
with white steps
and bushes hugging

we spent hours
clipping and cutting

but nothing
was as special as the sweet words
she spoke

I sat a spell with her
knowing now what that means
a moment
where much is gleaned
magic cast
as she shared her past
the good
the bad
the ugly
and the victory given
by our Savior and how he lived it

and with each passing breath
so much depth
and joy
for one who had little
had suffered much
and yet was richer than all the world

and so
forever she lives
beneath the cleansing flood
forever washed in His blood
a testament

to what it meant

to have Victory in Jesus.

                                                 RIP to the beautiful, Mrs. Ethel Jones

Beauty

noun, plural beauties.

1.

the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensorymanifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design orpattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritualqualities are manifest).

Prologue

My parents bought me my mac to go back to grad school with.

My GRE scores just expired and my son was just born. Now it is my lifeline. It is a way for me to maintain normalcy despite a fractioning of all that I have known.

He is a little ball of love and a screaming flurry of fury. He needs milk all the time. I am that milk. I am in some ways little more than a comforter and cow. More than that I am a mother. I know that but when it comes to the moments of craziness where I don't know what to do I feel like a cow. He actually is a very laid back, sweet tempered, talkative and a hilarious baby. However, I am in survival mode and that 5% of the time he is crying- seems suddenly like 100% of the time.

A good friend once told me how its hard to find your identity again as a mom. You lose yourself in a kid. It is easy to see that already as the storm rises from his lungs with an incessant and God given need.

Right now he coos quietly beside me as he dreams of giants and soldiers and swords.

I breathe thankfully knowing I have at least 5 more minutes of this. 5 more minutes of normalcy.

Without him my life would bare an aching emptiness but with him things will never be the same.

//

Here is to the journey of a lifetime!

The poem written despite a hyper puppy's attempts to destroy my computer, creativity and any form of concentration

Late night with God

//

any time now
he could come
first breath

and I
waiting
try

to sleep
ohhhh creeps
ice cream

I lean
want to scream
and so
the dreams

are at bay

I turn to a craft
realizing how daft
a late night crafter can be

in between
parts
I look at the art
that is
twists and knots
once forgot
but at the banks found
pushing
shoving
nudging
till wedged
they lay

saying hey
to those
who pass their way

these things
laid on brick
now say hey
look at me today

and I
see
what our creator sees
for the first time in days

and my heart says

praise

praise that I see
praise that in this moment I can be
without fight
between heart and head
and instead

just believe...

Effervescent

Play

feet up

feet down

looking at the crown

of the world

hair dirt streaked

a whir

of green

brown

blue

nothing better to do

not a care

freedom 

not flighting

but here

as each tug of my muscles

thrust me

into an oblivion

of colors

and wind

and most of all 

higher

and with each new height reached

a level of breathing breeched

something now

that is all to often 

beached

by heat

by cold

by babies

by growing old

why can't we play

all the more

knowing what it is for

and how rare it is

oh that beautiful effervescent bliss.

//

1. The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.
   John 10:10