One Last Day

The time has escaped me at a pace as sand through fingers.

The large heap of silica placed in my palm was to much, it started to fall over, spilling like a waterfall.

There reached a point when I could hold the load, but choose to let go of what I did not need.

I am left with little sand, and more space to be free.

Photo Credit:

Michael Hornbogen

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        2010 has been a great year, I travelled across Canada, which was the greatest experience, and I went back to school and started a program I am SO excited about. I really brought my knitting to a whole new level, discovered contemporary dance, and I'm living on my own! 
I am left with no regrets and doubts, only happiness and excitement for what lies ahead in 2011!

And I suppose this is an appropriate place for a list of new years resolutions:

1.No sugar (only Birthday cake)
2.Get back in the pool and swim again!
3.Make more time to write and read for pleasure
4.Visit the Ocean more often
5.Grow hair loooooong
6.Knit a sweater
7.Ride bike to school (almost)everyday

I think that's good for now.

(Cape Spilt)

With light as shape

Inwards one feels

An air of skies

As Ocean’s breathe

Standing among a split cape

 A Moment of love seals

Whistles face good byes

As Ocean’s breathe

Here sea grasses blow

A field of life

Freedom overwhelming

As Ocean’s breathe

The seeds do grow

As one draws within

A burst of swelling

As Ocean’s breathe

Clear ahead

Feet grounded below

Heart held high

As Ocean’s breathe

Words left unsaid

Hard to swallow

Another good bye

As Ocean’s breathe

A Passion Revisited

To remember what I once adored,
Opening the pages never felt so right.
With passions lifting, hoping  aboard,
As I open my heart and take flight.

It happened so fast, the spark was quick.
Searching to find the start of the trail,
The words come together and click.
All from a few letters I'm going to mail.

New Home

A week ago today I moved into my own place, by myself. Living on one's own I am finding is incredibly freeing, but simple; in other words, I think I am lonely but do not want to admit it. Or maybe I am not lonely yet, and fear I will become so. I'm also experiencing the humorous moments of realization where I am starting over, on all fronts. Buying groceries, coming home to cook dinner, and forgetting I don't have oil, butter, or salt and pepper; My meals have been rather bland and boiled. The spice and flavour is missing from my cabinets, and I worry I will lose it from my life. The whole single life is great in some ways, but when I am home in the evening I still find myself waiting. Just waiting, I think, for someone, anyone really, to come home. If this is even my home yet. This thought makes me feel well, a bit lost. Home: what a vast concept to through around from place to place. I will find myself here soon enough, and this haze of confusion and uncertainty will rise, my sleepless nights will end, and a special place of my own, is what I will find.     

Opening the Floodgates

Intentions postponed by hesitation to be open.
Time managment included is failing.
To think of speech one may find interesting,
Is posing more diffucult then expected.
In past times there exsisted an ebb and flow
Words, text, thoughts, emotions passed
No filter to contain doubts, and uncertainties.
Just presence, an internal current,
Once unstoppable. Drying no longer,
The tide it rises.