Welcome to your Garden

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Welcome to the garden of your life.
It’s so pretty here, if you find yourself
taking it all in at exactly the right moment,
when the flowers are in full bloom,
and the sun glints just so through the treetops
and into the lush, verdant space around you.
There is someone praying, maybe it’s you,
for relief from the feeling that everything should stay,
that the worst thing that could happen
is that all of this is going to change.
It is a deep and earnest prayer
that brings tears to the eye
and a deep rattling within the heart cage.
Maybe your eyes were closed, so you open them,
and the sun’s rays have shifted just enough
that the flower petals, as you take note,
have changed their direction to follow
the source of their nourishment.
It’s still your garden; you are still
in its endlessly deep, luxurious confines,
and you’ve never felt more free,
letting the changes do
what they were always going to,
and these transitions around you
are the heralding of life,
it’s coming and changing and going,
and fear that it will all disappear
is the golden emblem of your humanity.
It is your gorgeous humanity,
singing and haunting and taunting,
crying and pleading and laughing.
The garden takes it all in,
has only love to give back.
Take note of your garden; take it all in
with the time you’ve been given.
There is so much being offered,
and it’s all for you.
 
– TT
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Let Me …

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If I can’t ease your suffering,
Let me listen to you speak,
 
If I can’t remove your pain,
Let me hold it, gently, with you,
 
If I can’t walk your path,
Let me walk alongside you,
 
If I can’t inhabit your body,
Let me cast my love on it,
 
If I can’t efface your self-judgment,
Let me be your gentle touch
 
If I can’t forage for your treasures,
Let me share my own with you,
 
If I can’t get you out of the dark,
Let me be your reservoir of light,
 
And,
 
If I find myself in your shoes,
If I need the same kindness as you,
 
Let me remember to find you,
Let me allow you in, too.
 
– TT

Come Sit With Me

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Come
Sit with me
I want to say,
It’s been such a long time.
 
Maybe this place is unfamiliar to you,
I know – I am also, still, not so sure of it,
or even how I came to be here.
 
I’m not sure which of my histories
had to emerge, defiant and victorious,
from the rest, for today to take
the shape it has, or why,
 
Or how to contend with
my other stories, so stubborn and sure
(so much more certain than I am),
each cropping up, in turn,
to ask something of me.
 
Maybe it’s like that for you, too,
where you are?
I would like to meet you there
and hear your stories.
 
I would like for the act
of our communion, though,
to be our beginning,
to form the core of our existence,
both yours and mine,
 
and for the stories
to enlighten us without taking over.
 
Let us sit together,
and not scramble for meaning,
or dismiss the struggle either.
 
Let us take all of it,
hold it in the space between us,
and breathe and love and be,
you and me,
 
And start
the only place we can,
here, now, free.
 
– TT

Tomorrow

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t has never been the same,
but still we have fallen into
our comforts, taken to the belief
that things get better, that
there is a sheen on the horizon,
which is always, deliciously, ahead,
and if we stopped here, maybe,
in the playground of our versed hopes
and our deepest wisdom,
our steps would graze the ground
lighter, a golden future we’d make
from the firm beingness of now.
But what of the other side,
the way we turn to the past,
not with our bare feet on holy ground,
but with our eyes turned inward,
fixed on an object that never, really, is?
The happy-laced, the moments receding,
buried so in a fortress of our love and
desire, that it changes colours, hardens
and turns without our ever knowing,
and we intuit that we must leave
them where they are, but
we build altars and shrines
around them, with our tenderness
but also our fear, for we know
that in their unveiling, there would
be a disappearance, and a shudder
would pass through us, like lightning,
as though nothing remained, as
though we were not here, blood
and bone and hope on sacred
ground, still moving toward
the beckoning hues of tomorrow.

All our Tomorrows

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soft now,
treading slow,
eyes widening in wonder
at how –
at just because,
for the way we have
been blessed with
our existence,
so much of what
is ours to
witness,
the kingdoms under
our feet,
the fairytales in
the great waters
of the world,
and I want to sit
on the gleaming sand,
and make a castle
that will be as
glorious as it is
free to wash
away
and I want to
reflect on the
castle of my body,
and learn its
every shape
today,
and watch it
gracefully go the
way of all things,
slow,
into tomorrow.
 
– TS

Hello Beauty

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Hello beauty,
the arch simplicity of a new day beginning
the sun knowing without knowing,
the ground our vast, churning revolution
of dynamism and receptivity,
host to our place in it,
above and below,
wandering in between the shadow and light
of all there is,
if we will,
take the time to witness
to encounter and really see
what comes before us,
if we can,
come to be like the sun,
and know without knowing,
and feel without judgment,
from every corner and crevice of heart,
and the beauty, once revealed,
never to part.