Sometimes, when I look into the storm, I see Jesus. But sometimes, I just see my fears competing for the pleasure of being the first to swallow me up. Sometimes, I see more of the slap of the waves, hear more of the thunder clap, and I miss his soft song. Sometimes, I stare too long into the jaws of the gale and I miss the smile that bring me calm. Sometimes, I sail too long under the shadows of the clouds, and I forget to steer into the warmth of the rising sun. I listen too intently to the fury and I miss the whisper of his promised peace.
But sometimes, when I sail through the storm, I look and see Jesus, my Captain.

I'm thinking about writing this new format. But I'm interested in your opinions. I'm interested in knowing what you felt. An emoji is enough.

resting after a long day.
my body unwinds,
every tension released.
each muscle
breathes on its own
and lets go
of what it carried.

—deep breath—
only relief dwells in my chest,
all the weight fades away.
and I begin to imagine
my body
sinking into relaxation,
ready to travel.
each time I breathe deeply
I rise higher and higher.
I start to float,
detaching from the earth,
slipping out the window.

I can see
each house on my street,
each road,
a square with children playing.
the gardens smile at me,
the trees
greet me gently.
I can feel the breeze
on my face,
a soft perfume of jasmine.
a fullness blooms
inside my chest.

—deep breath—
I reach the birds,
they dance all around me.
blackbirds and magpies
sing their serenade.
I can touch the softness of the clouds,
a velvet cloth
that shapes itself into figures,
playing among the skies.

—deep breath again—
I rise higher and higher.
I see the sun
slip into the horizon,
giving way for the moon to appear.
it comes out shyly,
with tender clumsiness,
lifting itself
as every night does.

some birds hide in their nests,
wishing goodnight
to the neighbors in the same tree.
others begin
their nightly journey.
houses light up slowly,
a few in the west,
a few in the east.
the whole world seems like a sphere
decorated for Christmas.

—deep breath fills my lungs with clear air—
darkness falls,
yet everything glows.
young stars emerge
above my forehead.
the sun’s reflection
makes each particle
of the universe sparkle.
some comets gallop far away,
unhurried,
as if not to disturb.

silence expands,
deep and eternal.
I feel a vast peace,
floating in the void of space.
nothing touches my body,
yet I am held.

Jupiter dazzles me
with its crimson stains
over a reddish sea.
Saturn shows its rings,
spinning, twirling,
a ballerina
with a wide flowing skirt.

—inhaling, exhaling—
with every breath
I sink deeper into calm.
my body softens,
relaxation reaches every part.
no worries,
no problems,
only silence and stillness,
stillness and silence.

—deep breath—
I return to the planet earth,
to that neighborhood,
to my home,
to my body,
to my life.
but lighter now,
in harmony,
more whole,
with deeper well-being.

Fields stretching out in yellow and green
The brilliant blue of the sky joining in the distance
A gentle breeze swaying the sunburnt grass
The crickets chirruping their piercing songs
Tranquillity is all around
The clean air fills the lungs
As the calm spreads throughout
Like a lover’s hand caressing the body
Or the warmth of the first hit of *****
Releasing the pain from within
All has disappeared
And I am one with nature
But its permanence is fleeting
The cold turkey will kick in
And as thoughts flood back
The tsunami of angst returns
The realities of life

My mind is spinning in the river of thoughts
Swimming around
trying not to drown
Trying to survive
while everything else overflows
in just a second

Everything is calm
is what I say to myself and others
But behind the island are clouds of grey
And an angry sea
A sad sea
A place that does not know how to act

I liked the island
It is a safe space
One I imagined to be safe
But at a time the island cannot love and protect
If I don’t learn to take cover
I build the house
But it just breaks down because of the storm

I like the island
but the storm is more mine
More than the island will ever be

More than you will ever be

Timbuktu, the moon,

the woman in the window --


tired from serving tea.

A day off the map
no lighthouse hikes
no ferry tickets in my pocket
just the cabin walls
the pines breathing slow outside

I roll up green quiet
let the smoke curl through
the screen door cracks
the air tastes like lakewater
and cedar

a chapter or two, maybe more
the book heavy in my lap
but light enough to drift away from
when Ethel Cain's voice
slips into my ears clean and close
like she's laying right beside me

no rush, no reason
the world can go on spinning its errands
while I stay here
in bed,
half ******, half reading,
all the way alive
in the hush of Tobermory

the unexpected storm
on another day
could have ruined
that intimate moment
of memories and ice cream
sat on the rocks
of the sea wall
surrounded by calm waters
even as the rain fell
and thunder rumbled
they headed for shelter
on their own terms
only when they wished
this time it had
done nothing more
than bring them
playfully
defiantly
together

Swinging in a blanket swing,
the sun hitting most of my body,
cold wind hitting my arms and face—
autumn’s coming slow and steady.

I close my eyes,
the sun hits my face,
leaves rustling, kids playing,
I fall asleep—
listening to the sounds of divinity.