It’s easy not to trust,
to doubt that
all that you need
will fall into place

It’s effortless
to fall into the fear
and miss the signs
of the quiet blossoming

We are led to
believe that support
and love come in
large packages
with bells and whistles
and cards signed
by the entire cast
of your life
and perhaps
a celebrity hero
thrown in for
final
confirmation

We fail to see
that abundance
comes in small seeds
easy to dismiss
as flecks of nothingness
these tiny specks
that hold the light
need to be planted
in dense, dark soil
their code hidden from
the naked eye
but watered, nurtured
and nourished
they flourish into
massive oaks
of joy

The beginning
may not foretell
the grandeur of the end
that wisp of an idea
that glimpse of shy
inner knowing
that defies logic
can only
burst forth
and grow
when held
in the candlelit room
of your aloneness

Be brave
go into yourself
embrace the silence
and in the gentle
rustling of your
own creation
you will find
the magic
of your intentions
manifesting the
abundance
your heart desires

© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks

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We are all
fleeing
from something
even those
who appear
to be standing
still

Even those who
are planted in
the same spot
as the moment
of their birth
these rare beasts
who seem
to be happily
grazing on their
less than green grass

All of us require
sanctuary
a close canopy of
trees beside
a bubbling brook
and a log cabin
in the forests
of our minds

Light the candle
in your mind
open the door
to your
understanding
let the refugee
of yourself return
homeless from
the breakdown
of your own beliefs
and all your shattered
dreams and loves

Perhaps the fresh air
of our own
compassion will
sooth us and
create a space
for the dirt covered
children with
flies on their
eyelids and bombs
in their hearts
instead of being so
caught up
in our own need
for sanctuary and our
imaginary monsters
lying in wait
in our backyards

© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks

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Homecoming isn’t
the same anymore
the furniture has
been rearranged
and grief sits in
your empty chair

The spoon has
leached its metal
into my tea and
the milk seems
curdled even though
it’s in the halcyon days
before its use by date

There is a fragment
of me standing
on the mantlepiece
a part of you is laughing
next to me

Will this new me
ever wear the previous
mantle of my peace?

Home is no longer
a physical place
to rest and retreat in
it’s the sound of
an opera floating
on the breeze
the scent of roses
after summer rain
hydrangeas growing
in the shade of a
mossy wall
pasta in a blue and
white ceramic bowl

Homecoming
shattered
to shards
of memories
scattered like ashes
appearing
wherever I am

© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks

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I hand-picked a
constellation
of stars and
hid them
in my heart
they shine
reflected on
the lake inside
my mind

This is the place
where you
will always live
even as the wild
geese cry in flight
even as the moon
rises on lonely
landscapes
and planes
take off
leaving a vapour
trail of all
we wished
to say
but didn’t

And when
morning cracks
another sky
and all the stars
appear to fade
you’re still there
Venus rising
hanging near the moon

reflected

© Tanya Southey

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