Tag Archives: hope

Evocative

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& Flowers

I went walking midday Wednesday to clear my head and I saw dandelions.  Happy, and bright.  I thought of the commercials that advertise insecticides.  They kill them and call them weeds, but on my walk they were wondrous.  Nature calls them flowers.  Sometimes in life we focus on labels that leaves us with an inability to see things as they are.  Then we can’t appreciate them because our minds say we shouldn’t, i.e “That’s damaged, That’s wrong, That isn’t right.”  Worth is a tricky thing to define.  But I felt they deserved being flowers.  I think they deserved being showcased.  I remembered, as a child, racing to grab them in their pod stage.  We’d blow them and make wishes.  There were fields of them and a strong gust of wind would send them floating into the air like winged pixies.  I’d think, “I’m dancing in wishes”— I was in a field of hope.  Oh how special and unique I still feel when one comes looking for me.  My gleeful attempts to catch the spore and hold a tiny miracle or bit of magic. I blow it away… I send it to the gods, God, heaven, the fates, the creator, Yahshua, or whomever is in charge of making wishes come true.  I didn’t feel silly as a kid and I feel just fine with it now.

I tell you who ever judges me in those moments of magi and movement are just missing out!

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A Letter to My Love

 

Today I told someone my thoughts were like lulls in an ocean.  I find myself, occasionally rendered speechless with the depth of what I think.  He said I was too quiet.  Beneath my calm, I thought of everything and I couldn’t stop talking and expressing and feeling.  I felt I had too much to say, but everything I wanted to say felt inadequate or not enough… so I said nothing, nothing at all.

 

This space of serenity is within me.  I am also my storm.  I am my reward.  I have made friends with solitude.  I’ve made amends with myself.  For almost a year, I’ve been in the process of great change.  There are mirrors everywhere I look.  Everyone and all things living show me myself.  So who am I not to love or forgive anyone?  I am in the midst of grief and reflection— I believe I have been the caterpillar inching forward with a hump back.  Heavy burdens that protrude with each step as I’ve climbed and sought refuge from my inner demons.  I’ve felt helpless and alone; fearful and tired; empty and bitter.  Growth it seems is not without pain.  I’ve fed myself knowledge to expand and fill the holes disappointments and setbacks have created.  I’ve become a bigger person, a better me.  I’ve even found beauty in my ugliness and mistakes.

 

I’ve shed a skin.

I believe we become adults in stages and today, Gladney feels a newfound gladness and freedom.  I’m reveling in me.  Perhaps that sounds silly or obnoxious but damn, I feel good!  Smiling for no reason, smiling for being.  I’m laughing out loud unexpectedly like my joy can’t be contained as a simple notion.  I am a woman fully grown.  I accept accountability for my actions thus far and those that will be committed.  I own all of me.  So that I may live truly and fully. Yes, a black butterfly.  A monarch.  A matriarch of truth, wisdom, & love.  I lay to peace those who have brought me hardship or pain.  And maybe in that, I’m selfish because I do it for me to be free.

I grew wings

Make love, not war… there are crimes of passion we commit even to ourselves.  I destroyed parts of my being because I’ve feared being hurt.  I’ve been so strong, I couldn’t be weak.  I have found it hard to trust because I didn’t want to be let down.  I was screen door, open with a layer of protection.  I was crippled, but now I’m whole.

 


 

Have you forgiven yourself for not being perfect?

 

Kimberley

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?♥!♪?? »-(¯`v´¯)-»

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I tell you, it has become apparent to me that my struggles in life are beautiful things.  I won’t deny that happy days don’t feel good, but they are easy.  I make great choices because they come with ease and do not require thought.  If there is a such thing as “going with the motions” them the flow is free.

 

However, if living in darkness and one must be light- there is beauty.  If filled with sorrow and one can still feel joy for those who are happy- there is beauty.  If others are doing well and one is living in the grips of poverty and not feel resentment- there is beauty.  If I can take my dissatisfaction with the human plight & conditions and still see beauty- there, my friends, is evidence of God and love.

 

There is no depth to being  a good person when things are going well… No, my friends live through hell and still believe in heaven.

 

I think that is how one finds happiness.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Grow, Nurture

Ripples


I love the sound of rain, it reminds me maybe the world can be clean again. I hope it washes away pain and hides the sound of tears. The thunder echoes, its guttural moan and protest cry, the sky made love to earth and birthed air and we’re breathing life.


It’s creation outside… not pouring cats and dogs, but heartbeats & pacemakers to revitalize and feel.  Lightening struck you once before: you can focus on the pain, be the victim, and never heal.  But you CAN be reborn and redeemed, restored and re-seamed.  Stitch yourself in love and bind it up with trust and rinse it with some faith.


You may not be good as new but it’ll surely be a good new you.  Wear your scrapes and cracks like the bark of an old Oak tree.  You’re a survivor- you’ve weathered storms and stood the tests of time to spread your roots and limbs wonderfully alive.

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[for the Red, White, & Bruised]

It was not about us, the future…
It was about them, the past…

It was a night many thought impossible or a seed they would not see come to fruition in their lifetime.
It was the cleansing of a stain that has blemished this nation for hundreds of years.

It was shackles.
It was public humiliation.
It was lashes and salted licks.

It was barking dogs
It was Jim Crow.

It was poor wages.
It was bad housing.

It was discrimination.
It was profiling.

It was indecent healthcare.
It was inadequate school systems.

A healing of a wound.

It was the hope that the invisible scar, the older black generation carries, would not be inflicted on their children.
That finally, the future, can live a life filled with the same ambitions as other Americans.
We have been doctors, teachers, masons, lawyers, policemen, and more.

But now, we too dream America.
And the little ones now say, “I want to be president when I grow up”.

Kimberley Gladney©

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