the stories I could tell

the stories I could tell
of dreams sweetly coursing through my veins
filled with life and sustenance;
of growth buried deeply within my cells
not a choice or a have to but a need, a calling, a purpose.

the stories I could tell
of years and years of human hands
caressing me in softness, hugging me in heartache, and
even cutting me open for the selfish desire of leaving their mark
as I if I am the signpost for lovers on a journey unknown;
of passers-by too busy to notice, too consumed to care
as my family members disappeared as a result of "progress."

the stories I could tell
of awe in witnessing a thousand sunsets
while coral and lavender light danced across my skin;
or mornings' sunrises warming my limbs
even as cold, wet snows fell delicately upon my leaves.

the stories I could tell
of birds' sweet symphonies or squirrels' chattering gossip
as they nestled into the safety and shelter of my arms;
of deer nudging my trunk with their soft noses
or small creatures tickling my toes with tiny legs
as they all found nourishment in my body.

the stories I could tell
of lonely years, of beaten paths,
of changing tides, of waning moons;
of life unlived, of laughter shared,
of tears unheard, of kisses stolen.

but you would have to stop
and sit
and listen
and imagine,
for my stories are there for the taking
if you have the time.

morning song

oh, Morning,

you couldn’t wait.

Sometimes, you arrive as an unannounced visitor

too early for me to greet you with a welcoming hug.

But I join you anyway,

with sleepy eyes and a cup of tea,

my journal, a pen in hand, and shuffling feet.

We sit together on the front steps

first in darkness, then in light.

You think you can charm me with a symphony of song

from cheerful birds waking the world.

You might be right.

lady wisdom

A few years ago, my devotion journal highlighted Proverbs 8, a lovely and insightful text about Lady Wisdom or Sophia. As Holy Wisdom, she personifies the female aspects of God, and in the Proverbs passage, we learn she has been around since Creation.

I particularly enjoy the Good News Translation with its simple and to-the-point language and descriptive imagery of Lady Wisdom’s presence and position with God in the beginning.

Listen! Lady Wisdom is calling out. I was born before the mountains, before God made the earth and its fields or even the first handful of soil.
Proverbs 8:1, 25-26, Good News Translation

Two winters ago, I spent a silent retreat weekend meditating on the Lady Wisdom within me and honoring the lessons learned that have taught me so much. I wrote this psalm out of that “aha” moment–appreciating that as a woman in midlife that both wisdom and experience permeate my mind-body-spirit in a way that feels comforting. Instead of looking back and wishing for or wondering about easier paths or safer choices, I’m finding that I’m learning to sit with my own Lady Wisdom and hold sacred space for the woman I’ve become.

A Psalm of Wisdom

Oh, Lady Wisdom,

come in and sit awhile.

Bask in the sunlight

streaming through the window.

It catches your age

ever so gently

as it dances across your skin.

You are

magnificent but modest,

humbled by hindsight,

and time,

and lessons learned from the Creator.

There is no ego,

only experience

that frames your face

like the dried petals

on the flowers in the windowsill.

And when you

nod your head knowingly

at the secrets I share,

I get a glimpse of

the woman I’ve become.

A Lady Wisdom in her own right.

from Growing Grace: A Book of Psalms Celebrating Creation