You don't need extremes to reckon with your tenderness or the thunderous parts of you. They exist whether you're open or closed. Standing in a thousand acres or folded into your hoodie on a bus stop bench, the feeling weighs the same. Frontiers make survival obvious, all that space demanding courage, but it always comes down to something much smaller. The line in the sand compresses to atom width, narrow as the choice between staying and going. Your thunder needs no stage, your tenderness no permission. Both live in the space between one breath and the next.
You are absolutely right, the choices are made every day, without recognition, without fanfare, but they become more obvious as circumstances get harsher.
That felt smooth and soothing. Thank you!!
Thank you Wildflower. Thank you for spending time with my words. X
Your poem was just what I needed this morning.
That leaves me warm and happy. 💕🥰
🤍🤍🤍
In the end the only permission we need comes from within. I am always in awe of you, softest steel I know, and the most thunderous silence.
Love love. X
Sweet and tender poem. Thank-you for sharing your talent.
Thank you also my friend. x
thank you. i needed this. the line in the sand the width of an atom… god i love that.
And yet in that atom width is a whole universe we can get lost in. Stay or go could be a whole lifetime. You got me pondering with this one. 🙏
You are absolutely right, the choices are made every day, without recognition, without fanfare, but they become more obvious as circumstances get harsher.