seeds of spring

in the deep of winter i graze through seed catalogs 

looking forward to this season on the farm

soon spring will creep up

look up

white clouds tye-dye a blue sky
strangers laugh in the distance & birds sing


[i re-read the moment]

it seems clique
a small figment of the future
but i am here & so are you
sometimes we just forget to look around

the power of the coffee shop

feel the warmth when you enter the door. The rustic, perfectly imperfect decor feels as real as the fresh baked choc-o-pains.

greetings from the jolly lady
who knows your name & your drink
which she pours into a plain white cup.

the authentic minimalism of it all helps to keep us grounded (no pun intended).


-mh

resolutions

[we all want to be the best version of ourselves]

thinner
prettier
kinder
happier

but what about the little things.

listening to new tunes, slowing down, making a meal with the ones you love.

[the little things will make us the best versions of ourselves]

being thankful for what we have. our senses. our health. our dreams and our opportunities.

here is to a year filled with positive thoughts suffocating the negative ones. to slow walks and long thoughts followed with a glass of wine and acceptance.

happy new year.

echoes of love

the owls are flirting
high in the trees

typewriter is ink-less
no one left to please

samson.

i dreamt i was in an oversized victorian house. where each room had a different theme depending on how the visitor was feeling. black walls, tiled floors to chipped cream and woodwork. it was a salon for hair.

i needed a change. again. as if the hairs on our head should mean anything at all. samson wouldn’t question our theories. i sat in a chair that moved up and down with ease. the room filled with people and opinions. i wondered if it was my hair i wanted to change.

as the building started to burn i was the only one left remaining. i woke to rain.