If I show my heart right now, will he run?  If I tell him that I may have fallen for him from the first time I saw him through pictures and words and the unspoken kindnesses I see in his smile… would it frighten him? What if I tell him that I understand the horrors he has seen, the joys in small moments, that I am excited, yet scared and shy as a doe coming out of the brush?

My mornings have been richer this week because of him.  I don’t let a lot of people truly close to me.  Old fears.  People can be so cruel.  Like the snow melting, droplets forming trickles, pouring away from my frozen heart for a Spring to push up grasses and flowers and life after so long of being barren white.  I am so vulnerable and yet I yearn.

But when you let someone in, they know your soft spots…how deep your river flows…where the muddy spots are that push into brambles and thickets of dark brush. They know the hidden caves of treasure and the monsters you hide.  But I want to let him in.

A call.  A glance.   To share a word face to face and listen to the luxury of a human voice spinning a tale of their world…their truths, and deep fears, and shining glories.  The touch of another’s hand.

I have stood on this hillside, tying poems to tumbleweeds and setting them free to the wind.   Taking the chance that maybe they will be read before the sun and rain fade them and the winds shred them away.  Hoping that these fragile notes will crumble in the wrong hands.  Praying that the right heart, his heart, will hear and treasure them away in his mind and in secret. Smiling that I have spoken without demonstration and in the silence of the open skies just to reach him.

A chance of one in a million worth taking.  And yet I tie one more note to this ragged, old tumbleweed, raise it high in the wind and let it go.

LAS 2017 copyright All Rights Reserved


2 thoughts on “Tumbleweeds

    1. Thank you. I write what is inside…what I am experiencing at the moment. I appreciate your compliments. Blessings to you and have a brilliant Sunday!


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