Bundled Up

Bundled ‘tween you

There’s no place I’d rather be

Pink glowing sanguine

Sleepless

A quick update.

I’m here when I want be sleeping like the women I envy, even though I know desire gets me nowhere.

I envy her the quiets breaths her He would listen for, as He watched making sure bad dreams didn’t interrupt the peaceful place He’d prepared.

Suppose she offers him the same sanctuary. I hope so.

Anyway, just wanted y’all to know why I’m in and out of WordPress. My father begins a new treatment for a whole new set of distractions.

I can’t be with him like I want to be, because of the responsibilities I have for my own little family. Dad understands and has my middle and baby sisters with him this month. However, you guys know I am unsettled with the arrangement.

I have moments where I feel like my best isn’t enough.

When I fail at being human and not fighting for what I need.

What does obtaining get us?

Maybe as we are is best.

We understand this as we are space. It seems to work. It isn’t ideal, but our needs are met, if they weren’t we would change.

Or would we?

Fear is a real emotion. It isn’t intended for us, but we let it in. We grasp fear thinking we can somehow live together.

We can’t. Not truly.

Embracing love or accepting fear is the choice we’re given.

Love and fear don’t really work together.

Sunday Kind of Love

I love everything Marc sings, and this song is no exception.

My thoughts and prayers go out to Houston on a repeat and rewind constant motion. Music helps keep my mind on something else for awhile.

This song requires, low light, a glass of something strong, and a fantastic slow lead by a strong arm, bending as it wraps around my waist.

Takes the rest of the world away…

Timing

There’s a presence 
I see it, even if from afar
I sense the urge to discern
Or is it mine?
My words stumbling, brain unsure
Do I fall in completely, because
That’s what I do, or
Stay in the quiet
Where I’m comfortable, pure.
Lungs, I beg, shout
My head likely to explode, if
My lips don’t leak
Upon paper, or find shelter
Within his clothes.

May I?

May I…?

image

I have a few words left inside of me, if you listen intently you’ll hear them pleading, “Audrey, write us as poetry.”

Forever the shy one with something to say, yet I return no longer hidden. I humbly ask for grace as I allow my soul the opportunity to speak again.

I miss you. I apologize for being away. My life has changed, but I’m still me. Just now gaining strength and peeking through… My poetry will continue.

Love Always,
Audrey Dawn