These Days.

So much inspiration and love and positivity and happiness reside in me that I, ironically, find myself crying all the time.

It's as if a whole new continent is wishing to emerge from within me. New landscapes, creatures, ways of thinking, ways of dreaming...

I am standing naked in a field, with my arms spread wide and screaming, "Yes, Fill Me!"

Sigh, I do...

Quite right... a blow that never hurts.:)

Crying...

Over Vivo Per Lei.

Over Brokeback Mountain.

Over Practical Magic.

Over younger girls and their sorrows.

Over birthdays.

Over lost cups of coffee.

Over salt water.

Over my old journal writings.

Over daisies.

Over the beauty of music.

:D What can I say?

On My Journal Today.

The past six years have brought me to this point of greater expectations, realizations, strengths and brighter outlooks. I am surer of myself now and readier to admit the weaknesses I have... and more resolved than ever to banish them until only strength and humility remain.

I used to weep over the various self-deaths... no longer... I need to keep reminding myself that I should have no room for suffering nor pain in the home of my being.

To let light through my glass windwos and keep darkness out with the light I have inside.

<sub>Little girl, do not forget your home. You are in me and I am in you. I will blow dandelions with you... and I will remind you that that fox is not going to take you to a place of promised all-day fun and games.

and that</sub> We are both land and sky creatures...

Lightbulb.

It's quite brilliant, I tell you.

And most of the time it just wants to burst out of me.:)

Yeah, it's funny how you mentioned the magnifying glass... for that's one of the things I have told myself so many times.

It's not as big as it seems.:)

Truth Of The Matter Is...

The throbbing has finally caught up with me...

And new stabs think the center of my being is an apt bullseye.

The Other D.

That's where I am now, I believe.

Strange and foreign and painful.

But he said that lightness awaits me after it.

Gravity's Pull.

This ripe, aching fruit resists the inevitable thud on the ground.

Resists yet longs for the earth in her mouth... in her face...

Four Winds Now.

Have learned and scoured my landscapes. Have been acquainted with its moods.

With them they have brought rain- that destroyed...

... and then rebuilt the broken bones of my being.

As I Love Cearbhall...

Is how I must learn to love you now:

Where fear is absent.

Where pain has no space.

Where translucence is ever-encompassing as its sister sky.

Too long I have lived in shame and the ever tight fist of anger... nobody should live this way. How can one see light and colors behind the dark cover of anger?

I choose to see the beauty of our trysts... though they are now the distant mountains of my home.

Hunting Season.

I am closing the grounds and banning myself from the forest.

I have decided to be content with weaving at my loom and gazing at the wove, so to speak.

I have new patterns to work on... and I really should not waste the light streaming through my open window.

Let the world and the creatures of that forest move about and thrive on their own... my hands have found new lovers and occupations...