i can go Here. Even just a few moments at a time. it is an alive Place.
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16 responses to “this Place”
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Place. Peace.
Gentle hugs to you. ❤️LikeLike
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the comfort of cloth … how many ways it touches us
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Cloth, an alive place…
I made my version of a peace/prayer flag for Ukraine from hand dyed cloth scraps. I always make tabs so that I can hang my cloths and this was no different. The little flag was hung on a small grapevine branch that I could place way inside the apple tree branches so the winds could blow the spirit of solidarity and the prayer of hope for peace.
But here at times in New Mexico, when we have very strong winds and the flag was blown clear off the tree and landed in the dirt. When I found it, I brushed off the dirt and clipped it, using wooden clothes pins, to an iron trellis that we have on our patio. Last night, in a surprise, it snowed heavily for these parts and the cloth was covered in snow as if the cloth needed cleansing. It will be interesting to see how it fared when the snow and icy bits have melted, I left a lot of threads dangling on this peace/prayer flags, tatters that speak to me of strength and resilience and I though how alive this cloth is, how it is in solidarity with the seasons, even if it is spring and we still are getting snow!LikeLike
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I see much strong warmth radiating from this cloth. A collection of many hands that have created it from start to finish. May it never be finished.
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a place
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A place to go or to be. That is all we can ask for.
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No, that is a first layer thought. I expect more. Like the way that Democrats spoke today so eloquently to Ketanji Brown Jackson, against the cruel and self-serving speeches by Graham, Cruz, Hawley, Blackburn, Kennedy, ad nauseum…
A wonderful place to be is anywhere that gives comfort to you or me to lie in peacefully.
Jeez, am I the only tired one? All my love to you and your animal/human family.LikeLike
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you are far from alone … I couldn’t find enough words to describe the mean-ness of the Republicans … but I turned from that and wondered instead: how could they not feel small in the face of Cory Booker’s impassioned statement that he would not let them steal his joy?
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As I watched the hearings for Ketanji Brown Jackson, a refrain from a poem by Maya Angelou, Still I Rise, came pouring into my head:
“You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.”
AND she will, and she will be confirmed and the joy for all of us, will rise as well.LikeLike
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shelter for the heart
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new, all the time
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solidarity is a word worth spending time with
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may it
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that is real
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i think there is this place always there
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no. we are all tired. so so tired and yet we can’t
truely rest at allLikeLike

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