Open the box of your life,
let in the fresh air.

Breathe in,
let the air envelop your ideas

of how things should be…

every last

one,

 

breathe out,

​

feel the relief of giving up

trying to figure

it all

out.

 

Listen to your heartbeat,
always there. Smile, if

you like.

Take in the gift of the friendly
outside:

​

birdsong, trees, bees, and sky,

​

sunshine

fanning high and wide.

​

Let the rain drop

tendrils 

of clarity

into your

parched

eyes,

let it wipe your sight
clean

of the blindfold
that makes you a stranger

​

to the path
unfolding 

like breadcrumbs

before you.

​

​

Set the body down,

 

let the moment

breathe

 

into you. 

​

Touch

your hiding

places. Be tender,

honor the bravery

it takes to let in

 

the first rays

of genuine

insight.

​

Let sadness be

a waterfall,

nourishing

as it cleanses.

 

Throw some fists,

 

fill the space

with the presence     of your integrity,

intact and hearty

​

until you hear:

the simple hum

        of a day

that has lived its breath.

​

Be okay

with being

in     process.

 

It is not defeat

to discover

you are never quite done.

​

When the day is ready to end,
and the stars are penciled in and

twinkling

sweet

like night-lights

overhead,

​

gather yourself
upon the cool replenishment

of the unfailing earth

​

and give yourself
to the deep quiet of the night.

​

Find a rock or patch of grass
to lean into

and whisper

to your breath

​

all that you hold in fear:
let its tremor
take you

in its wings
 

into realms

​

you long to enter

​

but hesitate

to venture near;

​

plant your feet,

gather your heart,

​

and lay your head at the door—

 

an offering

for the life

that has been

is here

and is yet

    to come.