The Heart in My Body

9

My heart in my chest,

Quivering, alone and unsure

Feeling small in a strange land

 

My heart in my head,

Rationalizing away the fear,

Lost among wayward thoughts

 

My heart in my eyes,

Hesitant, always curious,

Imbibing a world of wonders

 

My heart in my throat,

Stumbling over words not true

Groping for songs in the dark

 

My heart in my belly,

Holding space for the girl inside,

Crying with her until smiles come

 

My heart on my skin,

Exposed too soon, it feels,

Hoping wildly for tenderness

 

My heart in my hands,

Longing, feeling the way

To every fragile connection

 

My heart in my knees,

Falling to earth, breathing relief,

Sinking to a necessary pause

 

My heart in my feet,

Soaking up life, gingerly,

Taking all the steps I need …

 

My heart in my chest,

Back home, nothing looks the same

It is a wiser love, love, it is home.

Advertisements

Life is Me

 

p1450915

We are not here to hide
behind the veil of our fears,
glimpsing out into the world
as though it is not always
running wildly within us,
as though we are not
part of the bright evolution

We are not here to be
more faint, muted or faded
than the world we balk from
as though we need to be smaller,
or for our actions be less brave
than the the bold expressions
that stir our souls everyday

We are here to sing like the opera
that glitters under our skin,
to dance to the rhythmic cadences
that spring from Earth’s core,
to sculpt our bodies like gold and
feel it rise through us like fire:
This life is ours to claim!

– TS

For the Muse

tammystone

for the gardens
that never succumb
to the weight of
their history,
for the ancient
wooden structures
that become
more full of love
with each passing
year, until one
day they will
collapse from
the enormity of
this love that has
seeped into
its bones,
for the muse,
which compels me
to bring heart to hand,
word to page,
even when i don’t
know what i
have to say,
even when no
expression will
ever reflect
what inside, too
is always changing,
with gratitude
for the trying,
for the going on
 
– TS

We are the Blossom

DSCF8984

Is there a revolution
in your mind?
Of course there is.
From yesterday to now,
thoughts and feelings
have travelled to the
sun, moon and back,
so imagine the days
before this, the years.
Oh, the way we fight
so hard to be
who we are,
to keep the pieces
whole and tethered,
to keep closed covers
on both ends of the story.
We are always
who we are.
The tree, from root to sky,
anchors the whole world
without questioning
the what of her.
The blossoms come out
to live in time
for just one week
before the rain brings
them to their lovely end,
and still they are
fiercely and only
what they are,
even as they resemble
themselves the least.
The light will hit them
a certain way,
threatening to change
everything we know,
and this looks a lot
like magic.
And this is the
revolution.
It is the stuff,
the same and
ever-changing
that weaves our lives
together, too.
May we always be
fully, wholly, wildly
what we are. – TS

Our Gorgeous Awake

DSCF8895

I pass hurdles
common and unforeseen
before climbing right in
and soaking in the
lush verdant green.
I inch closer,
hesitant, unsure of
my steps on a land
that has come
hand in hand with
our own existence,
that has long been
waiting for our return.
I am here,
I say softly,
not sure why
she would be listening
anymore,
unsure of my own
heart beating
her thousand pathways
through hurt
to love.
Suddenly I can breathe.
I breathe.
I unfold,
at times achingly slow.
Until the bloom
is magnificent and
full and whole. – TS