Day One:
Lately, I find myself gravitating towards the music of women, books written by women, the poetry of women, women-centred films, information about and by women. I find my world become calmer. Stronger. More inspired.
Hope flowers.
Day Two:
Do you remember reading that thing saying, “Do one thing every day that scares you?” I’m calling bullshit on that. Listen. Every day, do one thing that centres you. One thing that brings you back to yourself.
Pet a dog. Read a poem. Breathe deeply.
Say thank you.
Day Three:
A year so far of books of poetry, books of art, books of song, books of love which are always inevitably chased by heartbreak, books of unspeakable beauty, books that are mirrors, books that are gardening spades to dig within; dig, dig, dig, until you get to the other side…
Books that break, books that took my breath away, books gave my heart back to me, books that made me crumple, erased my knees, pointed me to God, books that sat with me in the dark, in the cold, in the quiet. Books that came. Books that will stay.
Day Four:
Beginning my mornings with poetry. Written words, spoken words, the voice of deep joy, of temporary melancholy. Beginning my days with gentleness, words that come to break my mouth into a moon crescent of gratitude.
Begin your days with poetry. Try.
think I have fallen in love with you.
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I think you think you have, but it’s unlikely. However – thank you x
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Every time I see you DP, there’s a calm ocean in your eyes that wants to turn rouge. That desire of a tempest can be seen. But I am no sailor of such tempest, hence dear not why your storm is so calm.
Love you.
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Every time I see your DP, there’s a calm ocean in your eyes that wants to turn rouge. That desire of a tempest can be seen in your gaze. But I am no sailor of such tempest, hence dare not ask why your storm is so calm.
Will keep looking at you, admiring from a distance.
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Nourouz mubarak jaan
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Nourooz Mubarak, whoever you are.
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Thanks a ton Jaan
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