give back your heart, to itself

The time will come
When, with elation,
You will greet yourself arriving
At your own door, in your own mirror,
And each will smile at the other’s welcome.

And say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine.
Give bread.
Give back your heart
To itself, to the stranger who has loved you

All your life, whom you ignored
For another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

The photographs, the desperate notes,
Peel your image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
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Derek Walcott.

coming back around again

Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.

And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes

you cannot even breathe deeply, and

the night sky is no home, and

you have cried yourself to sleep enough times

that you are down to your last two percent, but

nothing is infinite,

not even loss.

You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day

you are going to find yourself again.

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F. Scott

destined to be diamonds

It was a perfect day. Bright prisms of dew glittered like diamonds in the grass, although I knew that, as the day went on, they would be vaporized by the sun.

Vaporized by the sun! Wasn’t that what the universe had in store for all of us? There would come a day when the sun exploded like a red balloon, and everyone on earth would be reduced in less than a camera flash to carbon. Didn’t Genesis say as much? For dust thou art, and into dust shalt thou return. This was far more than full old theology: It was a precise scientific observation! Carbon was the Great Leveler – the Grim Reaper.

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Diamonds were nothing more than carbon, but carbon in a crystal lattice that made it the hardest known material in nature. That was the way we all were headed. I was sure of it. We were destined to be diamonds.

How exciting it was to think that, long after the world had ended, whatever was left of our bodies would be transformed into a dazzling blizzard of diamond dust, blowing out towards eternity in the red glow of the dying sun.

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Alan Bradley

one foot in sea, one on shore

Love,

It will not betray you
Dismiss you, or
Enslave you.

It will set you free.

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it’s a slow blossom

We are infinitely evolving.

Nothing about our existence can truly be broken down into checkpoints, as much as we’d love to believe it could be logged in a pretty Excel spreadsheet. Nope.

In truth, one experience just leads us to our next experience. One moment connects to the next moment, which leads us to some opportunity, from which we may build strength, or let go, or heal – and moves us on to something new. On and on. We make baby steps until we look behind us and see progress. There is no use standing in darkness, worrying about what lies behind the walls ahead, when we know that there’s light on the other side.

So then, we decide to   l e t   g o   and slide the first toe forward. Our journey begins and it goes on like this, one step at a time. We can set goals for ourselves. There can be a natural beginnings and resolutions, lightbulbs and milestones, but nothing really comes to an end. It’s not linear.

When it comes to this kind of growth, we can work hard on the trajectory, but we don’t control every facet of our transformation. That’s why making meaningful changes is sometimes often a painstakingly slow and frustrating process.

Window by window, we open.

Petal by petal, unfolding.

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