quantum ​
you and me
we’re tangled
inextricably
in heaven or
outer space
we move
as one
without words
just the
energy that
binds us
together
your cells
are mine
your spirit
beside me
so close +
so very far
but they say
nothing can
separate
what was once
side by side
connected
will forever
remain
entangled
like your
heart
and mine.
​
(inspired by conversations with @claire.dam. photo art inspired by poem)
aladdin ​
for those of us raised
on disney,
there was
always a happy ending.
always magic.
these weren’t grim
fairy tales,
they were
epic love stories.
and of course there
was tragedy,
but it was overcome
with heroic feats
and magic.
always magic.
but we can’t animate
our broken places,
smooth the edges of
vulnerability.
and sometimes the
things we do to
keep us alive,
are where we start to die.
Kintsugi ​
Precious scars,
pour gold in our rough edges.
You said that you’d be
covered in gold,
Because you’ve broken,
been broken.
And how do we learn
to love the ugly bits?
The Japanese repair
to highlight the cracks,
shiny, gilt reminders
that nothing is perfect.
But we wear masks
and try to hide
even when we are bursting
to be known.
To be seen in all our
naked honesty
wishing we could see
ourselves that way.
Wishing we could
find something beautiful
in these fragments of stories,
in this mess of our lives.
As we piece it back together,
each outcome is unique
as though our scars
are what refine us.
As though the wounds
are where the light gets in.
(inspired by someone i've never met - who was struggling with shame and their own history)
moving on
and this place,
where we’ve laid our heads -
that we have built with
our two hands, together.
stripped bare and
re-created, designed
and decorated, turned
an old house to this home.
this home, where we
welcomed new life,
created beauty,
and watched the days
and years go by.
this home, where first
steps were taken.
so many tears cried,
so many movies watched
and friends welcomed.
this home, full of warmth
and all the love that
could fit inside these walls.
all the memories held.
blue’s first days as family,
notes played on the piano,
all the fights and hugs and
late night bowls of cereal.
this home as shelter,
and studio,
home-school, and
home-base.
this home that launched
a family, a business,
and housed a boat and
snowmobile, or two,
along the way.
may we honour all who
have passed through
these doors.
may we honour all
that has happened
inside these walls.
may we cry for all
that we leave
behind in this place.
may we welcome all
that is to come
for the next space.
because family is so
much more than
just an address,
and memories have
no postal code.
but we let the tears
fall - for all that makes
us sad. for all that
feels forgotten.
for all the spaces
that we’ll miss and
the comfort of what
we knew as home.
for those stairs that
we used to run and hide.
that perfect spot to
sit and watch a show.
for all the little things
that we took for granted,
that spot to hang our coat,
or where we knew
to duck our head.
we say goodbye
to make space for what
is yet to come
beyond the womb
we could never have
anticipated
what would be
woven together
in this womb.
many threads binding
strangers,
re-building community,
friends become
a new kind of family.
there’s no kind
of manual and
you’re re-writing
unspoken rules,
with few tracks to
follow through these
winding woods.
but the paths
keep on crossing
and slowing you’re
walking side by
side, all together
the only way new
paths are made.
the only way
revolution takes hold;
in small reverberations
that ripple across
generations.
in one family’s
changes, reflecting a
lifetime of choice.
and you could never
have anticipated, the
tears or embraces.
the way the universe
envelopes and
blessings unfurl as
walls falling down.
but from the tiniest
seed, something is
born, growing in you,
breaking new ground.
nourishing a
community, a new
life, a new family, a
new way of being,
woven together
beyond
the womb.
​
(inspired by conversations with airin, around her experiences of being a surrogate)