Wednesday, 31 January 2018

CXCV

My body yearns
To come home
To your body
It does not know
Yet
That it’s room has been foreclosed
All of it’s traces removed
Perhaps on loan to someone new
Bulldozed altogether
Who knew
It could be leased a new life

Before you.



[Image: Unkown]

Tuesday, 30 January 2018

CXCIV



Every possession I own 
has become either a before or an after piece
Such a material way 
to chronicle loss.
And I'm not a material person.
But I guess it's the most tangible way I remember 
that you’re gone.
And the most tangible way 
I rebuild my life into something different.

And the most tangible way to know 
I am still a person without you.


[Image: Harpers Bazaar Turkey]

Tuesday, 23 January 2018

CXCIII


"Religious faith isn’t, at its core, belief in this or that. Perhaps that is the third or fourth generation descendant of this faith. But religious faith is trust in life, trust in that mystery that life is, that goes beyond the beyond."
- David Steindl-Rast

"The spiritual life takes place​ between the difficult and the impossible" 
- Rabbi Shai


[Image: Valerija Kelava for Harpers Bazaar Russia]

Sunday, 21 January 2018

CXCII


“It was nearly dusk, my favourite time in West Texas, the light like steeping tea, shadows sliding out of things”
 - Christian Wiman


[Image: Steph Smith for ELLE Canada]

Saturday, 20 January 2018

CXCI



TRUTH

You know me, God
And you love me, still?
You say forever you will
Though you know my words before I speak them
My thoughts before I think them
My praises to you, before I sing them
My sins, before I commit them
And you love me, still?

The pieces of me that I hide
The pieces in which I take pride
My greed and my ambition
My trouble with submission
The thoughts that are unkind
The idols I’ve enshrined
Every piece of me - you know them
And you love me, still?

I’ve tried to run so many times
Either with my feet or in my mind
Thinking it’s you I had to leave behind
Realising it’s me, it’s been me all this time
Realising it too late sometimes
After the hurt, and the rage
And someone else’s pain
Surely by now it’s all too late
But you remain, always the same
And you love me, still.



[Image: Isabeli Fontana, Russh Magazine]

Thursday, 18 January 2018

CXC

Every riven thing - Christian Wiman

God goes, belonging to every riven thing he's made
sing his being simply by being
the thing it is:
stone and tree and sky,
man who sees and sings and wonders why

God goes. Belonging, to every riven thing he's made,
means a storm of peace.
Think of the atoms inside the stone.
Think of the man who sits alone
trying to will himself into a stillness where

God goes belonging. To every riven thing he's made
there is given one shade
shaped exactly to the thing itself:
under the tree a darker tree;
under the man the only man to see

God goes belonging to every riven thing. He's made
the things that bring him near,
made the mind that makes him go.
A part of what man knows,
apart from what man knows,


God goes belonging to every riven thing he's made.






[Images: Pinterest, unknown]

Wednesday, 17 January 2018

CLXXXIX

9/1: 

That tight chest feeling
Rising anxiety
From your stomach to your ribcage
Almost breaching the throat
Though wordless

My anatomy still succumbs to it on occasion
Without warning or explanation 
The general feeling of things not being ok
With me
I won’t escape this for a while

It seems


[Jean Campbell for Vogue Russia]

Tuesday, 16 January 2018

CLXXXVIII




I feel alive

And I want to feel it
In the midst of the deepest pain and contradiction 
of everything I know to be good and true
Other things
That are good and true
Have stepped into the void
And I feel alive
With life
In the midst of this I feel alive





[Images: Vogue Portugal]

Tuesday, 9 January 2018

CLXXXVII



For One Who Is Exhausted, A Blessing

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight.

The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.

Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.

The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.

You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the race of days.

At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.

- John O'Donohue

[Steph Smith for ELLE Canada]

Monday, 8 January 2018

CLXXXVI



I am most beautiful when you are looking at me
No, this isn’t just my vanity
Your eyes cast a heady glow over my body
Your eyes see a light that no one else sees
Your eyes won’t leave me and so I must turn 
To you
To you looking at me
I am most beautiful when you are looking at me
Reflecting what you see
The me in me
Not my version of me, your version of me
Riddled with beauty
Not doubt
Crowned with beauty
Not fear
Glowing with beauty
Not insecurity
Every best part of me
Nothing ugly 
That’s what you see
I am most beautiful when you are looking at me

Please, keep looking at me


[Giedre Dukauskaite for the Edit by Porter Magazine]

Sunday, 7 January 2018

CLXXXV

Don’t fall in love in airports
At least not til you’ve boarded the plane
At least not til you’ve entered the gate
At least wait - 
Oh, there she goes again.
Strangers are romantic
It’s true what they say 
But strangers are never as desirable as you might think them to be
And the ones that are, it turns out

Are never strangers anyway




[Jean Campbell for Vogue Russia]