u/WildHoneyStatic_4224

They see the horizon as a boundary.

Its an invitation.

While others searched for crumbs,

She noticed, studied and loved wind,

tested umbrellas

and wondered what waited beyond ordinary.

Falling became practice.

Solitude became freedom.

The sky became possibility and photo ops.

She never intended approval.

Sigh...once again

leaving familiar behind

trusting that tiny little path

and discovering on it

that limits exist only until someone dares beyond them.

✌️

I wish i didnt pay so close attention or notice.

I physically hurt and sit in grief as a witness.

They lie.

And a lie rarely travels alone.

It brings a stab to the heart then invites silence to sit between what was said and what was true.

Trust notices.

Trust always notices.

You were ok with that debt.

Bummer.

Eventually, the biting joke becomes real.

No more explaining.

No more, faith.

Questioning becomes unnecessary.

Silence stops asking for answers and becomes one instead.

That was enough.

Not every betrayal deserves another conversation, another chance, or another ounce of attention.

Some things simply teach us where not to place our energy.

So let the lie keep its story.

Sorry but meh..🤷‍♀️

I held hands with Sadness.

I walked arm in arm with Loss,

and Sorrow and I hugged multiple times a day for years.

I've sat side by side with Shame

Had long talks with Resentment

Consoled Longings relentless comparisons.

While each is still a dear friend,

they no longer need every breath.

Instead, I've welcomed Wonder,

kissed Laughter,

lingered, eyes locked, with Love,

and absolutely adore Joy.

I know the others will visit again.

I will make them tea.

I will sit with them when they do.

But these days,

when I share,

I want to tell you about the light,

What's soft,

the gratitude,

the nonsense and the magic.

I've lived, spoken and acted enough from what hurts.

Now...

Joy deserves attention.

​

Three acorns entered my pocket 1, 2, 3

none were invited.

All grew googly eyes

and immediately became management.

The second declared himself an oracle,

predicting rain, and toast.

The third said nothing.

Naturally,

he concerned me most.

By lunchtime they'd formed a council,

taxed the pocket lint,

banished a peppermint wrapper,

and opened diplomatic relationships.

(with my left sock, who had no pair by the way)

I demanded explanations.

Googly Eyes blinked.

The oracle whispered,

"The oak remembers."

The quiet one rolled over.

Honestly,

What about those pinecones?

To be continued...

lol

New moon hides her face,

fire hides behind shadow,

heart emerges gold.

Scintillating crown,

passing through noble Leo,

jeweled canopy.

Celestial embers

awaken the lion’s heart,

roaring into light.

The moon holds her court,

the Sun dips his solemn bow,

their dance now ended.

Collab waterfall haiku with: https://www.reddit.com/u/2xduran/s/0c4rEHecht

​

Come sit beside me lets watch the ocean kiss the dark.

The metronome waves keeping time

Watch the Perseids rain brilliant streaks stars across the sky

Let's always make wishes tonight.

Lantern light glows brightest in sync with our toes in cool sand

Tide gifting sea glass, seaweed and shells at our feet.

Let the night breeze find us.

Let the whole universe put on its show, just for us.

And still,

my favorite thing beneath this entire sky

is you ♡

Breathe in

Listen

There is something the night almost tells you.

It’s windy and quiet.

My ears search

for what’s being said in between.

My eyes wander

toward shadows moving softly,

toward branches bending

as if answering questions

I learned to ask.

The wind brushes past me,

back of its palm against my cheek...

carrying something familiar

I cannot quite name.

So I become still. 811

Perhaps silence

is not the absence of words.

Perhaps it is where

the things we most need to hear

finally find enough space

to speak.

Exhale

​

I fell down again today.

One, two, three, four, five… six, seven, eight?!

Eight times since the New Year.

I could count the bruises,

the scraped knees,

The sore joints & bones

the moments lying there

staring upward,

wondering how the hell

I ended up on the ground

again.

Eight feels like a lot

when you're counting falls.

But maybe I've been

keeping score all wrong.

Because somewhere between

the stumble and the sting,

The blood and bruise

there was always a hand

sometimes someone else's,

sometimes my own

reaching down

and saying,

Come on. Up.

One, two, three, four, five… six, seven, eight?!

Eight falls.

Eight rises.

Eight times I dusted myself off,

checked what hurt,

laughed when I could,

cried when I couldn't,

and carried on.

I don't want to become

someone who never falls.

I want to become someone

who trusts herself enough

to know she can get back up.

So let the earth

recognize my knees.

Let the dust

remember my name.

I've met the ground before.

We're acquainted.

I love the floor, ground & dirt

But enough ok?

♡ thanks

Ever made homemade ice cream or custard

just to lick the spoon?

Or baked two giant sheet-pan cookie

So you could say..i made cookies, plural... lol and

because twelve little ones seemed terribly responsible?

I challenge you too drizzle chocolate

where chocolate belongs!!

Oh, everywhere, obviously.

I'm ready to dip strawberries,

crumble crackers,

swirl peanut butter,

and sneak one bite before it’s ready.

Snacks don’t need a reason,

a holiday,

or even a proper plate...kitchen sink works for me!

Happiness is homemade,

slightly messy,

and eaten barefoot in the kitchen.

Here's a rainbow spoon,

break of a corner,

and taste-test twice.

Nomnomnom

Sit with me a while and let’s behold the wonders of our enchanted garden

Let’s take in the fragrances the sights and let our senses be captivated

I love being in a garden with you . Enjoying the lovely views

Let's wander slowly where the crooked pathway bends,

past our favorite stones, near the afternoon sun.

Let's listen to the old gate creak as though it knows our names,while sunlight drips between branches and dances as shadows and shapes.

Let's watch how the breeze arrives with secrets from afar, and the tune of a cheery bird.

Let’s gather the dandelions and let’s make a wish.

Could you guess what I’m wishing as I blow it? My white seed into the wind?

It’s a secret.

Maybe when the seed has landed and spring I will tell you.

Let’s gather daisies and make daisy chains.

Let’s think of our childhood sweet hearts as we pluck each blade , saying “ she loves me , she loves me not.

Let’s gather the buttercups and let them reflect their gold under our chins.

Let’s laugh and frolic like children again as we lay on the fresh blades of grass.

Watching the clouds and making new shapes.

When night falls let’s do the same with the stars and let’s dream.

And when the first firefly flickers, let’s pretend it is a fallen star that changed its mind.

Let’s follow its tiny lantern deeper into the garden, where the pathways grow softer and the shadows longer.

Perhaps we’ll find the place where the crickets keep their orchestra, and we’ll dance badly beneath the moon because no one but the trees is watching.

Let’s brush our hands across the herbs as we pass, carrying rosemary and mint upon our fingertips like little memories we can take with us.

And there, where the garden has grown wonderfully unruly, let’s finally meet the flowers.

Let the roses climb where they please.

Let lavender spill across the path.

Let foxgloves ring their tiny bells into the evening, while honeysuckle sweetens the air around us.

We won’t pick them all.

Some beautiful things should be left exactly where we found them.

Instead, let’s sit among them until our clothes smell faintly of earth and summer, and the moon has climbed high enough to find us.

Then, before we leave, let’s tuck one last wish into the garden.

Not for tomorrow.

Not for someday.

Just this:

May we always find our way back here

to the crooked path,

to the old gate,

to the wildflowers,

and to the version of ourselves

that still remembers how to play.

What lovely freedom the garden shows us .

A controlled and yet untethered freedom .

Harnessed in the Caress of love and care so it can flourish as it wills .

These days of planting and watering are paying off .

For just as we have toiled in this garden and are seeing lovely fruit .

So we have planted the seed of our words and watched our thoughts bear fruit as we have watered them with kindness.

From Wild Honey & Relevant Age!

https://www.reddit.com/u/Relevant\_Age9455/s/c3nc532yKO

Shhh listen...

Tiny cricket beneath the moon,

Cicadae joins in for the tune

Froggy sing your little song

No not that note, you ribbit wrong.

Lets join together tucking the darkness into night

No grand stage, no need for spotlight

just little hums serenading just right.

Spider lady i see your web

The wind faintly flow your spinning ebb

Sleep well good dreams untill the 'morrow

All the sun beams we will borrow

♡

Name-calling? What are we, five? 😋

Call them a witch, and they'll keep making magic.

Call them trash, they'll turn into a trash panda and uncover forgotten treasures where others see only scraps.

Call them a cockroach; they'll outlast the darkest nights and still greet the sunrise.

Call them a rabbit; they'll teach quiet courage, gentle hearts, and hopeful leaps.

Better yet, call them a potato, humble, nourishing, never pretending to be extraordinary, yet welcome at every table.

The names people choose reveal more about the speaker than the soul receiving them.

Every creature, every root, every unlikely thing carries hidden purpose.

Wisdom begins when they learn to see worth before they choose a label. Growth has always answered louder than insults or assumptions.

Learn to see before you judge.

(Ps: this is not directed..I'm honestly spilling with fire this week so letting it out this way instead of that way)

Duuuck

Duuckkkkkkkk

Goose

Moose caboose

Runs in circles & up a tree...

Weeeee

We spend so much of our lives measuring ourselves against milestones, titles, numbers, other people and applause.

We count promotions, pounds lost, followers gained, notches in belts, broken headboards and checkboxes completed.

Yet, who is counting the truest measures?

The smallest, quietest moments...no one else ever sees and for these YOU should be proud.

It's consistency.

Showing up when motivation sleeps.

Choosing the workout because you promised yourself you would.

Being honest when a lie would be easier.

Lending a hand without expecting recognition.

Teaming up instead of tearing down.

Don't ever put out someone elses flame, how fucking dare you!

Yall, keep brewing the tea, making the bed, sending the kind text, offering the apology, keeping the promise.

Every single day, these ordinary choices become extraordinary over time.

Perhaps we shouldn't measure ourselves by how much we accomplish for an organization, a title, or someone else's expectations.

Those things change.

Instead, measure the person staring back in the mirror.

Did you become a little more patient today?

A little braver?

A little healthier?

A little kinder?

Did your actions reflect your values, even when no one noticed?

Character is built quietly, one repeated choice at a time.

Do the work you MerFer lol

The harvest of our lives isn't gathered in grand moments but in faithful ones.

Every day, a little bit.

Celebrate it out loud and on top of the world.

In the end,

Don't simply leave the world better than it was found.

I leave me, and you leave you, better.

Be bettter!

That is the measure worth keeping.

Fuck your numbers, kisses ♡ 😘

I don't want no diamonds or recognizable fashion.

My finest accessory is a purring orange scarf,

stitched exquisitely with whiskers,

embroidered in mischief,

and fastened

beneath my chin

with unconditional affection.