For Sundays

The humming of the refrigerator has become my favorite sound.

It’s Sunday and we’re up before the sun, laying side by side with our backs flat on the shaggy carpet in the living room. Blankets cover our bodies and I place a sleep mask over my eyes. He opts for his blue bandanna. We breathe deeply, our arms intertwined and hands clasped. I try to listen to every sound, but it is so early the rest of the world is still sleeping.  There’s just the humming of the refrigerator and the swooshing of our breaths filling the space around us. In and out. With my third eye I see flashes of light and a never ending dark night sky. And when the time comes to fully return to my senses and this body in this world,  I will see a sky colored in pink, purple, and orange, and he will still be wrapped up tight in a blanket and I will look back at him and wonder how it is that the sight of him can rival a sunrise.

I live for these little moments when I can feel so full and whole and safe.

For slow Sundays and sunrises and plans of forts while drinking coffee and making pancakes. For the every day magic and the humming of the refrigerator that keeps me believing life is worth living. Love is worth giving.

 

 

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Sunrise

you should’ve seen the sun rise this morning

for a moment I couldn’t tell if what I was looking at was the ocean or the sky. the clouds rolled in towards me, the shore above

like waves made of air, foamy with oxygen and an angel’s breath

against the never ending horizon

which stretched itself out to embrace the sun in all its colors of yellow blue and lavender

Your seat would’ve been next to mine, my head on your shoulder

and we’d sit in the comfort of our silence and I’d write in my head all the words I couldn’t yet

say out loud or bring to paper.

 

Naive but Free

 

I’m not afraid of great failure or absolute success

What I fear most is the in-between: a mediocre kind of life, without magic or surprises, or nights turned into days where we sat and watched sunrises

without dancing shadows and time to wrap my body around yours, without the pitter patter of tiny feet on cold, wooden floors

without a heart to love the sadness in me and chase it with light-

No, happy enough will never be sufficient for me

 

You’re so naive some like to say

But I rather stay naive and free.

Mondaze

I cross two things off my to do list

2 out of 7

Then pat myself on the back, saying on the inside:”Not bad for a monday, pal.”

Those five other things can wait.

until I’m done waking slowly, rising languidly, letting life take my body and soul over again inch by inch, breath by breath;

until my limbs have collapsed on the floor, sweaty, exhausted, sore and alive

all at once,

and my mouth has drank and sung and kissed… until I’ve listed all the things I’m grateful for to myself and whoever else might be listening, counting as the sun rises outside, the many blessings found in the mere fact of being alive.

Life. Live it.

Don’t waste it with the mechanic, the automatics-

The joy is in the journey

Don’t forget it.