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For the Resting Hearts of Winter Women.

Hi there, you remarkable women.

I wrote us a poem.

I hope you like it.


In these weeks we are together,

Treat your hearts to ruthless grace,

Take a bath with a cauldron of cheese-its

Sit them on the side, or eat them after,

Layed out on a blanket, a carpet picnic

in warm house during snowy dark.

Prop up a laptop and

watch Grace and Frankie or Queer Eye or

Some other soothing thing that gives you

renewed hope for humanity.

Or for those who prefer this,

Let your ears hear silence,

a sonata, ABBA, or the

quiet voice of a nice round stone.

We, as women, are called to care for people,

and to do things.

We are also called to care for ourselves

formost of those people.

And to be ourselves,

lest we forget.

These weeks are a time for remembering

that we are not alone

that we were brought here by mothers

flawed and beautiful,

to be mothers, flawed and beautiful

to ourselves, and perhaps, to others.

None of our beings,

None of our doings,

None of our restings,

None of our makings,

are illegitimate.

We were made for these times.

We were made

to be on this tree,

to be this tree,

At times as leaves, as branches,

At times as fruit and dormant root.

In this latter half of winter,

In this February of darkness,

amidst garish red hearts,

and the cold quiet of resting love,

Let’s build warm home

for ourselves in our hearts.

Let your body feel welcomed

by your heart, by your soul, and

by every raised eyebrow,

curiously looking toward spring.


Welcome to Gateless Writing.

Thank you for joining our small, lovely tribe.

I look forward to seeing you soon.



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