sacred ground

Walking in the forest
I see one after another; 

tiny dew drops resting on young leaves 

They collect and share light

like soft fleeting diamonds 

Viridescent moss crawls up the deep saturated trees, 

encircling their trunks 

like delicate lace hems 

Tender white petals sprinkled down the trail, 

are commingling with fallen foliage 

of seasons past

Scattered further and further from their source, 

they bring their message with them: 

Spring is here

My puppy's curious nose follows a small purple butterfly,

 no bigger than my thumbnail, 

as it flutters low 'round the ivy 

 She watches from a distance, 

seeming to sense its magic 

Wandering along the creek

I start to weep 

My tears fall below me 

like salty sea cousins of the fresh morning dew,

 gritty and rugged as they splash the ground 

How does the dew form in perfect round droplets? 

My grieving pauses in a moment of thanksgiving

for this beauty surrounding my feet

Though my head hangs heavy 

I am soothed by this sacred ground 

that receives my weight

one step at a time.

no words

Today marks one month since I left ATL and arrived in Oklahoma.
It has been 31 days since my grandmother Celia passed away.
It has been 26 days since my great Aunt Jan passed away.
It has been 23 days since I called an ambulance to take my mother to the ER, and on to ICU.
And it has been 5 cloudy, heart wrenching, sporadic uncontrollable sobbing days since I watched my mother take her last breath.

This is all still so raw and so very very sad that words like 'sad' seem to have lost their meaning. I still don't really know what is happening. And don't know how long this feeling will sit heavy on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

But I do know that my mother and the generations of strong women before her, two of whom we also just lost, have raised my sister and I to be strong and adventurous and loving women. And I feel that in my blood and my bones, even as it's hard to move and speak. I am forever grateful for the powerful village of amazing people my mother stitched together like a beautiful warm quilt, now wrapped around Carrie and I. This will take time, but we will be ok. Love you all. Miss you with all my heart, Mama.