Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Lifetimes of wishes.


I would dearly love to collect up my lifetime of wishes in a bundle. Relics of hopes and dreams.. confirming the ones that were realized.
I think a great many of these wishes of mine came to fruition. The ones crumpled in chubby hands, of barbies and fairy bread and Polly Pocket's friendship. Simple and pure.
Sometimes I would write them on patterned paper, and hide them under my pillow. I have tied them with string and buried them under trees. We have etched them in wax and burnt them as candles.
Broken wishbones, christmas crackers and whispered requests to worry dolls.
No matter the way, nor the reason, I have managed to have much success in my wishmaking. Maybe it comes with a faith in the world. Maybe we must be the other half in our quest for dreams. Maybe those people we have loved and lost in the past now provide for our future. Or perhaps.. fairies really do exist.
I believe the answer to wishes is this..
If it has not come true, it was best that it didn't. Trust in that.
And don't put wishing aside as you grow older, as this is the time we need it most.

Monday, May 21, 2012


The light in your thoughts sometimes spills into the real world. Or sometimes the light of the world creeps into your thoughts.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Sharing sand.

If the sand between your toes feels right, then run and skip and laugh and jump.
If its more at home in your hands and your hair, then roll and gather it to take with you as a reminder of what it is to be part of the earth around you.

Scattering.


It rained today so I sat on the floor and created a small world around me.
Like a nest I padded it with things I love, teacups and ribbons, old books and erratic jewels.
Littered around me amongst scraps of fabric and discarded pencils, lay thoughts that broke on arrival.
They scampered from view and took shelter behind crumpled paper and extra thread that went astray.
I don't blame them really, a mess such as a busy mind is something to escape from at any rate.
Next time I'll trap each thought in a notepad, as the title for a list.
That'll show 'em.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Pitter Patter.

The sun I awoke to, laughed at my joy. It's warmth tickled my nose, like a loving graze it played. But to teach me a lesson, it scampered with a giggle. It hid behind trees, it hid behind the hanging washing, it hid behind the sky itself.
I played hide and seek with this child called the sun. It's peeking so taunting. It's bright stare brushing my face.
And like a child worn out with such fun and games, it faded and left me, morning just begun. But as we learn from the little one's in our life, beauty is not just bright light and sun's glow. It is also in the grey days, and such dire weather brings beauty too.