on losing

Feeling the pull to say (and feel):

I love you anyway. Even if you fall and fail and we don’t ultimately win this one. Its ok. I’m still here and will always be here.

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in process

I watch him at the window
Out in the rain
Burning what we no longer need
and transplanting a basil plant from the garden
So that we can taste its flavor
During the cold sleep
Of winter.

I watch him
Without him
Knowing

And am remade
And astounded
At my reality.
and my luck.
At this life
we’ve made together

the sky reminds me
not to question what i already know
what was already revealed

I speak to God often
And sometimes he speaks back.

He almost always
waves hello When
the wind rustles
The leaves
On the large tree
By the driveway
And the sound is
So lovely
And noticeable
That even
my 1 ½ year old
stops her splashing
in the middle puddle
and turns to listen.

Sometimes I do what I do
(walk in the woods or write a poem)
Because it’s the only way
I know how to pray.