A woman sitting on a chair journaling.

Someday, maybe I'll have the words
to finally feel heard
but until then I'll grow seeds into lush life
and point with wide eyes,
wave my tiny hands
and beg “please understand”
I'll bleed poems
and send spotlights up
through the fathoms of water overhead.

I'll feel this fierce fire and
wake night after night
and I'll ask a billion questions
to which no one has
answers and I'll just smile
and nod and hear about the god
people have imagined you to be.

But I'll know you are passion
embodied, and love so deep it feels
like drowning and grace for which my
vocabulary fails me. I'll know that you are so
so good that this little life of struggle
in skin pales in
comparison to an eternity of seeing you with
eyes wide open.

Frozen rosemary.
I want to share this beautiful life with others and teach them the lessons we've learned along the way. Welcome to Roots and Refuge, friend. I am so glad you're here.

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