Inheritance is Accidental


Daughter- I cannot take it back.

I did not see it coming.

I just watched the pain ravage you from within,

Daughter- I hold you while you cry.

Held your hand with breaking heart, and red eye both times in the hospital because for you it was harder to breathe than it was to die.

Seeing the girl I had pinned my hope to, my very heart to, hating her skin.

Knowing that every single day was a sort of hell you were living in. 

Because I thought if I loved you harder, held you tighter, and saw you make friends, and write poems, and learn to make a perfect pie-

it meant you  were better,

the nightmares, and self loathing were over.

And like a chapter in a book we women come to know as growing up,

we turned a corner.

And your life was precious not just to me, but to you.

All credited to the outcry of love from all the people around you.

A lie you tried to swallow too.

Because it was easier than telling me.

Daughter, hear these words-

It isn’t your fault.

You did nothing wrong.

Daughter! I begged you to stand up to demons within,

take control of them.

I was so stupid.

I didn’t know the things you did.

By the time you were big enough to talk, you’re spirit had been stolen.

See, the thing is,

I was an artist, unconventional.

Being the kind of mom who taught you see the stars as beacons of hope to pin dreams to.

Busy being the mom who taught you to love,

to forgive, to fly free-

because, for me, daughter that was the only way to live.

We stop looking up,

we can stand firm on the ground.

My hands once held open, are a closed fist- ready to stop the monster who stole consent, and innocence from your lips.

Daughter I will always stand beside you,

I do my best to guide you.

I may not always know what I’m doing, ( a secret fear in the hearts of all mother of all daughters throughout the history of children )

I don’t have every answer to these kinds of hurts,

there is no bandaid, or magic kiss that can take the pain away.

But every time you feel sick, sad or scared Daughter reach out,

let those delicate fingers stretch out beyond your safe zone-

and put it all, every bit of it into me.


Let go of what is gone, and cast that demon out-

Scream, cry, stomp and shout.  

Like a phoenix rising from the ash,

Daughter you can start anew.

There is nothing now that demon can take away from you.

If ever your feet fail you- fall into my arms.

I wont suffocate you.

I wont diminish the light inside you, somehow even in your darkest hour it burns brighter than the sun.

Daughter- the world is yours. And I am yours, too.

Inherit the wind,

Daughter- let it carry you from this place to new ones.

Discover yourself.

Challenge accepted wisdoms,

and redefine the wheel as a thing that gives you momentum.</p  

Midnight In The Garden Of…

Before the dawn breaks the sky and interrupts this perfect night… know this,

I had fun. I laughed at you, and with you, and a lot at myself because I am so ridiculous.

When daylight comes, I will move from this spot, and find another… and I will remember how I felt last night, and that inner voice will sing a song that stings less.

After dusk, I will dance in my garden with my childrens’ laughter ricocheting off the earth into my heart… and I will know I am what I needed to be all along.

I will understand them, and they will look at me with perfect trust and know that I am the first and last place to come for kisses, and for shelter.

There is no room for the cold world outside our window to touch us in the home we make together. My sons will grow in my garden tall as trees, and inside them will be the roots of a love so great they will only ever have to touch the ground to feel it… to trust in it, and to greet the world with purpose and kindness.

My daughter, my beautiful, complicated, silly, exposed nerve of a girl with big blue eyes, and soft dewy skin will know only strength, and decency, and have perfect faith in herself. She is the change the world wishes to see. I know this because she as all the love in my heart, and feminine wisdom that carries on from the women who come before, and we share their struggle, and triumph. She has a third eye where she can see into the meaning of a man, and know its intention. She has a soft voice that when heard aloud, opens a portal to place of philosophy, humility, and pride. She doesn’t know it yet, but she is perfection personified…

In the gloaming when these 3 sheep are asleep, I will call to you … and tell you that I channeled you here.. that I carried you in my heart, and that I could not have done it today without you. I will tell that my feet got tired. That I remembered your recipe for chicken and noodles, and that I wish you had been here to remind me to be patient with close minded, fear mongering, or as some call her, My Mother. I would have liked to remember that one today.  I will sleep with your song in my heart, because the morning will come again, and I will wait for them all in my garden.  Thank you, nanna for sending the butterflies to me, thank you for sending your love to me… and send some more to her.. she is sad and lost today, too… one day, she will hear you.


Speak Not, Hear Not, See Not

So as not to be seen, I stepped so slowly, with such purpose.

So as not to be heard, I held my breath, and let my fingers stretch forward

So as not to disturb you I have silenced my Siren Call. Making port in one particular harbor, nearby.

So to keep moving I have pulled my anchors, and am readying my vessel to fly.

I have the unspoken, the broken, the unfinished cup that left me all full up. I have our song to carry me when you are long gone.

I have the horizon laid out in front of me, and a promise of eternity.



My favorite Things

My favorite Things

These are my kids and a few I borrow from time to time, who very much feel like mine.
Being a momma to growing up kids is the best thing I get to do every single day. I realized I dont spend a lot of time on the topic here.. so my readers/and my one stalker should know…

I am never alone. I never get to go pee uninteruppted in my own home. But…. I know how to kiss away their tears, talk them out of all their fears… and that every day is better than the one before it no matter what is in it.

I got a major case of the diabolical dib dabs of the blow hoe and other categorical catastrophes!

I think everything is returning to normal around my house. A new normal. Recently, we had a death in the family, and one displaced mother, and replaced with aunties and uncles and love and heartache and stress galore, and one seriously lost child, and someone ( I’m not naming names) ate all the good Halloween candy like ALL of it. Serious stuff, I tell ya.
I am in need of a bubble bath, back rub, high five to the face, and maybe an extra 12 hours in my days to sleep and struggle as it seems I am destined to do right now.
I am channeling my best Jackie O right now, maintaining dignity in the face of tragedy, and emotional upsets is my game and one day with more valium and booze in my system Jackie shall be thy name! Or well alright fine, organic veggies, chilled water in a recyclable, reusable water bottle, and perhaps some double mint gum, met with fervor and physical and psychological health.

Things That Go Bump In The Night- Where my Wild things Are

If you live in my house and are about 3.5 feet tall you can see things that us taller folks cannot. There is a multitude of scary “baddies” that currently reside under the beds, and they seem to disturb our peace right around 8:45 pm. They’re inconsiderate, these “baddies” cannot seem to observe our households’ strict rules regarding bedtimes.
I haven’t had the pleasure myself. But my flock keep me informed of their goings ons, they seem to be somewhat troublesome, and even thirsty late in the night.
Anyone have a “baddie” repellent spray we can try?!
As a result of the current climate under Maxwell’s bed, he finds his way to my bed and night after night we cuddle, we talk about the monsters, and other possible night time troubles, I tell him that they’re not real, he nods his head in agreement, but when sent back to his warm bed comes the inevitable rebuttal from him. Any mommy like me staying up late watching True Blood does privately ask herself, is there something actually under that damn bed? Reason will out, and we are forced to face facts, there is no such thing. Our mothers told us when we were 3.5 feet tall, too.