What We Unearthed

He boxed up our joy. Years later, visiting his home, I saw the idol again— being used as a doorstop.

My Freedom, Unconditional

Agency was always mine—inner knowing, intuition’s quiet recognition, the soul speaking through the heart.

The shimmering tent came alive with their help.

Black pools we hid beneath, unseen, but the moon kissed our smiling faces.

Random fits of joy just because she is joy, and I’ll cultivate safety so she knows that about herself.

Since my daughter’s birth I have the perfect excuse to do everything. My heart is in it once again.

He was wonderful with wood. A carpenter by trade.

Welts on our legs, a little blood. A rather serious game of fun.

I sat in the dark, recognizing the rarity of this moment—peace, magic, beauty, stillness aligned perfectly.

The warmth is lovely. The terror of investigation into my pre-teen crushes is not.