Ingredients:

suitcases
photo albums
quick wit
a  new space that is comfortable to breathe in, raise other beings in, and nurture pets and your spirit in.
Sprinklings of humor to shake on it all when it gets to be too much. Mason jars of self-appreciation and worth to open in an emergency, if these qualities are forgotten and old patterns resurrected.

Preparation:

First, sit quietly with yourself.
Breathe deeply, as many times as you need.
Fill as many soul cups as you can with confidence,
and pour them on yourself, until they sink into the
soapstone of your pores.

If needed, tip back your head and open your mouth,
in order to have a more direct inflow.
After that, take just as many cups of calm
and pour them in, slowly and with generosity.
It is okay if you overflow; you may need extra serenity
later, when you are in the midst of action.

Let the two ingredients mix, slowly, until colors as yet unnamed
are formed in your solar plexus, spilling
throughout the entirety
of your body.

Take a break and blow bubbles, for lightness.
Yes, you may laugh like a loon.

Marinade:*

After the laughter has subsided, take a big dose of self- love and rub it all over yourself, drizzled like fine coconut-scented oil. Do not miss a spot, even on the parts that you have a problem with. In fact, give those extra love.
And now, for the rub*: This has been simmering for a while. It is time to push it all into the oven and bake it. The heat is rising, so be quick.
Take all precious memories and sew them into the pockets of your coat. The ugly ones, burn, quickly and thoroughly. Scatter the ashes into the wind.
Hang new pictures on the wall.  Splashes of nature you have photographed. Mandalas created by a precious daughter. A platypus wishing you goodnight by your little flower imp. A cheeky photo of your boy, to remind you of inner sauciness.
All of these strengthen with love.

Finally, rest your head upon the new pillow and inhale the scent of freshly laundered springtime. For now, the ordeal of your winter has ended.

Time for a long, languid, luxurious dessert.
A new life!

Bon appetite!

If Friday became one of us,
She would not make a fuss,
Thank God, it's Friday we say,
Yes, it's a fabulous Friday,
No need to get a shock!
By  5pm, it's weekend o'clock,
Yes, Friday is folk like us,
Let's hear it for Friday fabulous!

The plump moon lights up my room.

My mind is now a flat graph
no desire no lust no dream

the cold winds from the rumbling sea
make no dent on me
I look at my palms
and see the cracked floor
gnarled roots of mangrove on the wall
blend seamlessly with all I have
like once I had her in this room
love together
taking wingless flight to the moon
but now I more like sitting here
prospecting no words to rhyme
not angered at the blankness
for in this vacuous moonlight
I wait without a hope of gain
without a despair of loss
unconstrained for time
contoured by fireflies
alone
recounting a new beginning
from the end.

By Arcassin Burnham

When its necessary.
You take me out , you make me feel alive..

Looking up , you better find the Eden,
lies are told when you receive them,
life is short and they reduce it,
almost coming closer towards the end,
this the world we've been portrayed,
putting up walls like when the sun goes down
and when in doubt you feel you should've stayed,
but this is now,
and you must love,
and you must hate,
and you must gossip,
And ridicule the people that would die for you,
never snitch on you , they'll lie for you,
in a land without freedom,
In God we trust like the back of our hand,
the strong spoke for the soft spoken,
too scared to reach and just take a stand,
old familiar sting,
they forget your name.
letting heads ring,
they don't say a thing.

This tree
That tree

I don't know
Outside my window

Only you.

We chop and
Chain at you

Yet you grow
Each year

Bark,

Wrinkled as a
Brow

this indigo night
spreads diamonds like confetti
across the heavens