Monday, April 1, 2024
Friday, March 1, 2024
Dropping petals and pieces, smells are pungent, carry memories of ones gone before.
With the fading comes a softness: a gentle reminder of what one day shall be:
the giving back, the letting go, the last dance, the final fare thee well.
xo
Monday, February 12, 2024
The four directions placed themselves, and I thought of the father, sun, sons, and ghosts. The woods called my name, and I raised my head and listened. No wind, only soft words coming from my heart. And still, I know I am an orphan to the ferns and spider webs. I am lost and found. Saved.
And searching. xo
Friday, December 1, 2023
The above photo is one of many my son, Jesse Crossman, has taken. He has the eye and heart of a lover of nature and all things beautiful. I am honored to share the photo, as I am to share him with the world. I am honored to be the mother of children who pay deep attention to this sacred and special world and time. There is much grief, loss, and sadness to hold, yet if our moments can also be touched by one another, we can know we aren't alone; together, the weight of all things can be lifted toward the light. xo
October 2023
October arrived in many ways : Tears in unexpected places at unexpected times
: There were holes in the morning glories : The window screens, and my heart
Not one thing caused any of these incidents: It was a season of too much
: Heat and hatred, death and dying, angst and anger, rain and rage
What do we call it now : Autumn, the letting go, the dead leaves underfoot
: The knowing, the laying down of darkness, the silent way it arrives
Hold tight dear heart : Courage is within
xo
Wednesday, November 1, 2023
November 2023
Sometimes, the only thing bigger than a sky
is the moment we remember it's there;
holding space, ever-changing, always shifting.
Tuesday, August 1, 2023