Sacred // May 2023
Happiness has been catching me when I’m not looking for it.
Sweet moments -
listening to rain tap on the rooftop,
two kitties purring on my lap,
a dog curled up on a soft blanket.
I keep looking for joy on mountaintops -
and perhaps it exists there too but -
it appears to me more easily found in this quiet peace.
These moments that are least logged, photographed, and shared -
in this way they are the most sacred.
Adulthood // August 2022
As a child I wondered what happiness would look like later in life,
and imagined various sophisticated things.
This week I turned 28,
and I am certain that happiness is sitting in a big chair with a dog lying next to me
and a cat purring on my lap.
Adulthood is nothing I imagined it being.
Perhaps, during the moments when responsibilities are set aside,
it is much akin to childhood.
It is curiosity and wonder, if you can keep those alive -
and small pleasures, if you’re not moving so fast that you miss them.
Calm // July 2019
I wish to live in the stillness of morning.
The hoot-hoot of the birds outside,
the silent wanderings of a black cat,
the slightly yellow sunrise sky.
Here, a busy mind can quiet;
an anxious heart finds peace,
bound to the smiling pup at her side.
There is no calm like that of the morning,
in all her quiet glory.
She goes unappreciated.
Most calm and quiet things do.
Master of Joy // June 2019
If I’ve learned anything there is to know about joy,
I’ve learned it from a dog.
They know joy far better than we do.
Have you ever seen
a dog rolling in tall grass?
splashing in a cold pond?
running free in a field?
If so, you have seen joy.
You have seen joy from her master.
Mundane Days // April 2019
I sleep with one arm resting on a big dog
and the other arm wrapped around a small dog.
No man has ever felt joy all year
from the week he spent on vacation.
It is not the rare, extravagant days
but the slow, seemingly mundane days
that keep us going.
It is the feeling of soft fur on fingertips,
rays of sun beaming on counter tops,
red fences,
a hammock swaying in the wind,
sweet bird songs.
Why do we continue to wonder
where joy comes from
when it is simply all around us
just begging to be enjoyed?
Alpenglow // December 2018
Alpenglow -
I breathe you in
that the God in you
might live in me.
Home // September 2018
The fox trots to the comfort of his den.
The mother bear gathers her cubs to the mountainside.
The sparrow flies to the safety of her nest.
I, too, and going home.
I only have to run to you.
Worship // April 2018
Maybe the Creator is so embedded in Creation
that the mountains really are calling us.
Oh pines,
oh rivers,
I see God in you!
The rocks do cry out -
I hear them!
The grasses worship too.
I want a pure heart like the flowers,
a pure heart to sing your name.
Let my soul be clear as mountain lakes
until you come again.
The Tide & The Mountains // December 2017
If nature has never reminded you of yourself,
have you really been looking?
I am the tide -
ebbing and flowing, always changing.
I would rather be like the mountains -
strong, secure, unwavering.
Even more I would like to have the faith that moves them.
Yet I am the tide -
in moments I will move,
for I am never still.
Unearthed // October 2017
I've become accustomed to keeping
my thoughts to myself.
Silent, unearthed -
in the ground with the seedlings.
Perhaps I should lay my head on your sweet grass,
feel the tickle on my face,
and whisper my secrets to you.
Strings // January 31, 2017
I'm fighting battles inside
that I feel should already be won.
Is it so hard to live your life
in the path it is already going?
Noise.
Noise.
Noise in my head.
Where is silence,
but in the Wild?
Wild, I need you, you are
the only thing that makes sense to me.
Well that, and touching,
but touching always comes with strings attached.
I don't want strings,
and I don't want attachment.
I want to be detached,
from everything,
floating in the Wild.
I want to be like the smallest of birds,
with no worry in this world,
with no strings.
First Impression // entering western Montana // May 9, 2016
The way that the fog touches down and kisses the evergreens is both lovely and eerie at the same time. The way it looked up in those mountains sent chills through me. It was wonderful, frightening, perfect. It was everything I had dreamed of, and more.
This was my first impression of Montana, as I drove across the border. I stared in happy awe.
I found myself wondering, how does such a simple sight impact me so deep in my bones? How does a single image become so impressed in my heart and mind?
Oh Montana, my heart is swimming somewhere in your winds.