This Morning

The day dawned dim and murky, the color of an English tea. The rain had passed, leaving behind dew-drop children for the birds to frolic with. The trees gathered them all, shepherds of the forest, sentries of the wild. The sun hid behind it’s blanket of clouds, sleeping still, desirous of five more minutes. Amidst this slumbering world was the heavy-handed happy optimism of life. Shining even when the sun hides. Crisp, cool air fills voracious lungs, and the earth begins to smile.

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This Morning

Requiem in Quiet Minor

Has the world ever been this silent?
A collective held breath, a quiet murmur of fear and heartbreak?
I feel their shivers as tremors in the earth
And taste the salt in their tears as it falls from op’d clouds
There are things that can only be heard in silence
Like the weight of the earth
Velocity pushing together
The thoughts of humans and nature alike
Abounding in their own worlds
Separate but desperate to connect
With one another
To hear
The steady unassuming heartbeat of a child
Or the flicker of a spirit flame as it gutters out
The silence reveals it all doesn’t she.

Requiem in Quiet Minor

Hilltop Promises

You smell like sweet rose petals kissed with sun and dew
Sometimes when I sit up on the hilltop you come to me on the wind
And I feel unrelenting unrepenting hope fall into my heart
Like unbidden water
First a trickle then a rushing raging waterfall that crashes and smashes and gnashes against my brain in the most sadly expectant way
I begin to smile
Yes, so happy joyous
But then I remember.

Hilltop Promises

Spring Break

Sorry I haven’t posted anything in a while–I was on spring break! It was wonderful! My family and I went up to the UP for the week, and the weather was perfect! (Well, as perfect as Michigan weather can be, I suppose). It wasn’t too cold, and it wasn’t too warm. There was snow everywhere and it was like a winter wonderland. Normally I hate the cold, but actual spring would have ruined it for me. There were icebergs on the lakes! Real icebergs!

We went to the Eben Ice Cave, and that was just GLORIOUS.

It was so beautiful!

Eben Ice Cave 2013
Eben Ice Cave 2013

And I went INSIDE it! It was freezing, and the walk was so long, but it was worth it. It was so quiet in that forest–we were the only people there and it was the most peaceful environment I’ve ever been in.

After that, we stayed in a hotel in Munising, and it was so nice! It was like a northern lodge, and we had a suite room so we wouldn’t crowd each other. We went to go see some nearby waterfalls and it was so beautiful and gorgeous and live changing and AGH I LOVED IT. The UP is really cute and lovely, and I would love living there. (Not for long, but for a couple years or so. That would be perfect).

The waterfalls were probably my favorite. They were half frozen so they looked like they were majestic thrones made only for the gods. Or maybe portals to some other world. In any case, they were stunning.

Frozen Waterfall 2013
Frozen Waterfall 2013

We went to three and they were beautiful! My sister and I accidentally found another one, and while the descent to reach it was dangerous, we did it anyway. Walking behind a frozen waterfall is so exhilarating! My sister stepped in the river, though, so we didn’t stay for long. We felt like adventurers!

That wasn’t all that we did, but those were my two favorite things about our trip. Of course, we got fudge from Mackinaw City, and even managed not to eat it all on the way home, so that was good, too. We stayed at my cottage for a day before returning home, and it was perfect. This was probably my favorite spring break so far. Usually we go down to Florida to visit relatives, but it was nice to do something different.

Where do you go for vacations? Have you ever gone out of the country? Please feel free to share. I would love to see pictures!

Spring Break

Endings.

the blood crept from her throat

and mingled with the water

and seeped into her hair

like the ground they would lay her in

so cold, so cold

no, she couldn’t bear it

they would not put her in the dead earth

not with all the other ghosts

her brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers

who wandered below the dumb feet of the living

in the great maw of hell their descendants had trapped them in

no, she would not share their fate

not she, who had come so far and been so brave

with the last gasp of her spirit, she let go of the world

the gentle stream pried her lifeblood from the open gash

like a delicate mother

fingers of lilies and kisses of currents caught her body

and carried her from its womb

to the open sea.

Endings.

Below

the water reflects her image

like a rippled mirror

swaying around her face like lover’s hands

caressing each eyelash and half-smile

as waterlilies swirl in her hair

she runs her thin fingertips through the aqueous depths

feeling the dirt and silt of her life sift down to the bottom

sins and lies and wrongdoings

to be stirred up by passing fish-fins

and borne down below

to become one with the earth

dragged to the center

to be burnt up

in a fiery ball

gone.

Below

Midnight Hush

It is the special kind of night. I feel alone and yet connected with the world around me. Outside my window, the coyotes howl their excitement to the stars, and in my head, I run with them. We race through darkened forests, and above us, owls hunt the midnight air. They soar and dip in the sky, looking for the cowering mice that shelter under the dead foliage left behind by fall. The wind rushes through fields, disturbing the grasses and plants in a symphony of hushed rustling, lifting winged night hunters in updrafts and surrounding four-legged night crawlers in a comforting embrace. All is quiet, and yet the silence is charged and intense–the sound of nature, so soft, the loudest sound I’ve ever heard. It engulfs the earth and trees and life itself, connecting us in the deafening roar of stillness. All is well. In my bed, as the coyotes howl, I am lulled to sleep by the cyclical sound of silence.

Midnight Hush