Your love is my blood

You and I

have a history before mine starts.

You and I

share a heart

since mine gave up.

and Your love is my blood,

Your love is my blood.

You remind me of  why I break my hands

You remind me of  why I move my feet

You remind me of  why I give a damn

You remind me of the  Breaking Love I need --

You remind me of  everything poured out

You remind me of  my identity

You remind me of  why I call this home

You remind me of the  Breaking Love I need.

Betony Coons art

You and I

have a history before mine starts.

You and I

share a heart

since mine gave up.

counting the graces

thank You for

our morning light together, with your recorded Story, a glass ball jar of green tea and Taiqi flute soft through the open windows

meeting a kindred God-seeker at the mountain lake, a broken up woman desperately worshipping the only god she knows, Buddha / the universe

Titus & Mike being right there to talk about it...and all kinds of deep things we've encountered recently, like the duckling who didn't develop properly

one cool afternoon with no class, two happy boys with new fishing nets, a mountain and a lake

making it safely through an intense three-day weekend of multiple big dinner gatherings, goodbye parties
faithful from the South Ch who have loved us so good

seeing Jen on the phone today, and seeing all the photos of her graduation party with both sets of parents, all our sibs there together

Mandie, for initiating that connection, and also for bringing Ethan back to MN

air conditioning, ice and popsicles

leftovers from friends for an easy weeknight dinner
joy of open hands, letting material possessions go and obtaining a fuller life instead