that's mrs. mediocrity to you

.

turn your face

to the sky

and blossom

.

.

i was

one of the lucky ones

.

365 days

of crazy beautiful

precious life

were gained

.

for this

i feel blessed

.

.

.verb 12

p.s. love in a mist is the name of this flower

::

Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:

What was lost in 2012? What do you intend to find in 2013?

::

.

i sat

in this chair

again and again

and i listened

.

.

::

Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:

How did you nourish your beautiful body in 2012?

::

i have no place
to put
this broken heart

no shelf wide enough
no bucket deep enough
no abyss dark enough

it sits in my hand

beating
beating
beating

bleating

hope dripping
through my fingers

faster

than i can catch it

i stand here beneath
this forever sky

naked and afraid and

raise arms high
until this cracked love clock
eclipses
my view of the sun

backlit kaleidoscope prism

the color of everything

hold on
hold

on

i have no place
to put
this broken heart

.

.

.

Linking up today with dVerse poets for Open Link Night

.

i stood

in the light

and i said

yes

.

.

::

Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:

How did you make a difference?

::

.

for the children

.

My husband and I are quite the opposites.

He is pragmatic, logical, organized, while I am the creative, disheveled romantic. We were both born the same year, but he is water and I am fire. He is taciturn, while I wear my heart on my sleeve.

We come at life very differently, he the early riser, filling his days with physical activity and work and sports. I am the night owl, and my days are filled with creative wonder and work and reading.

We meet in the middle for meals and family, vacations and holidays, and for a few minutes most nights, in front of a fire. In warm weather, we sit outside beneath the stars with our feet up and music playing. In winter, as soon as we both have finished our work and chores and activity for the day, there is the fireplace.

He will almost always be asleep before nine, while I will sit for hours reading, writing, knitting, thinking, often with whatever game he was watching still playing out unobserved on the television screen.

One night a few weeks ago, as we settled into this nightly ritual, my husband in his spot in the chair closest to the flames, me on the couch with the best view, and all the animals filed in to take their nightly places in this oh-so-quiet drama, (the two gray girls in the chair with him, the two male cats rearranging themselves at whim, and the dog in the extra chair) my husband looked at me and said, “so, here we are.”

We both laughed and settled in.

Indeed.

.

.

::

Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:

How can you nurture a healthy, loving relationship with your partner?

::

.

in my

garden and

in my

dreams.

.

.

::

Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:

Post your favourite picture of yourself from 2012, self-portrait or otherwise.

::

a sky

to leap into,

a place

to land.

.

.

::

Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:

Cultivate isn’t about being in a constant state of happiness — it’s about
practicing happiness, much like you’d practice a sport or musical instrument.
How can you infuse more appreciation for the people, places,
and things that bring you joy?

::

I am the wraith of winter

I spin loose tales of death and direction

decorate with grey and hollowed out stones

.

I light the night with moondust and parody

weave rough wool from forest and folly

paint the sun into places you’ve never imagined

.

I can warm your toes and chill your heart

breathe life into howls that could tear you apart

sit silent when you beg for a song

.

I wear a belt of keys but never open a door

rattle chains that were forged from lost days

hope is the ring I wear on my finger

.

I am always gone and never away

neither friend nor foe in your subliminal story

I am the wraith of winter

.

.

.

Linking up today with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!