Listen

The song of myself 

had no tune for a spell

The moments of color 

Suspended… 

Until,

I gathered my heart, 

inspected the pieces,

Put them together, 

and listened.

Being Brave

Sometimes being brave is doing something new. Like dressing up and answering questions in front of an audience and a panel of judges for a car show pin-up competition. As someone who was affectionately called "weasel breath" growing up (and as someone who spends most of my free time wet, sandy, and bare-footed), this day of dress up was definitely a good type of stretch. My mom told me that I look a lot like my maternal grandmother in this picture.

Photo credit: Todd Davalos Photography & Sadie Snap Photography

Understanding

Forged in my soul

from despair and agony of loss

Is understanding

The truth of myself - 

I can never be less or more than who I am, or how I love.

My heart whispers...

"I am enduring,

I am tender,

I am peace."