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She doves fly from her heart the day she committed to Love.
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I have a little place to hide. To undress and sit and eat and sing. It's where I worship. Myself. And anyone who comes with me.
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Here I sit still. I roll. I sing. I get undressed. I pray. I feel. I scream. I bleed. I allow myself to be human. This is truly my worship.
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She made me this in my yard when I told her I was going to miss her so much I might die. Here, she said. Go here when you miss me. Lay down and feel me as the breeze that just is able to creep through.
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She didn't know what to believe. Was there a god? Or was this just it a pile of chaos, laughter and pain all mixed like a drink shot back without thought? She dipped into water when ever she felt there was nothing more to do.
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The road was there Church. Knee high boots their Sunday attire. Adventure was their God. They prayed often for the good times to roll down route 92.
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She didn't do so well with late nights crying and early mornings with red eyes. When she was tired she came here and threw stones until her arms ached as much as her heart.
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Her mother always told her the best thing to put against skin was soft wool. She wore them alone or underneath everything. They kept her energy in and her aura bright.
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Shelter. Peace. Curl up and know you are held, protected and celebrated.
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We all need a place to call home, somewhere we can lay down in lust or fear, tears or laughter. Create your own church right where you are.
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Whenever she felt scared about the idea of forever, she stood at the edge of the water. It reminded her how beautiful forever really was.
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I am the ocean, I am the sea, I am the water and the water is me.
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She got terribly carsick when she read while traveling, but it was a really good chapter so he pulled over so she could finish it.
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I find my salvation in a basket of fresh herbs.
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You know you want to climb out and feel what it's like to be on your own, with only the wind to listen to and the sun and moon to worship.
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God comes in many forms. My skin next to his the best form I know.
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We all know the way it works. So why don't you just stop all the bullshit and spend some time smelling the great gifts of the Earth?
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We left those damn boys and took off looking for some real men, butterfly forests and coconut milk straight from the fruit.
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When you are lost, wander and you'll be found.
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She wrote every single poem at this spot. She could only get there by boat and she made sure nobody ever followed her.
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If the air is still and you need the winds of change.....
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He told me when he looked at my cards I need a blank space, an open room all white so I could create the most divine life that lives in my heart.
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Rebekah Smith Makes me so nostalgic.