A Gift Of Beauty & Heart

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I had been trying for a few days now to decide what my 300th post should be. There is quite a bit going on in my life right now, but it is all either health related, family related or just a bit to painful to share. My dearest husband an myself plan to take a trip to the coast tomorrow and of course there will be days of blog posts to follow sharing all the grand visuals and little travel notes. I  felt as that most likely will indeed be a "series " of posts, did not wish to make them my 300th. I considered a heart felt thank you to all my many followers who have taken the journey with me thus far over the last 299 posts, be it as only a person that reads and does not comment, visits but does not follow, or is devoted with heart and soul to follow, comment and share the word of my little section of cyber space....I do adore each and every reader. 

My numbers have not grown as I once thought they would, but then I have been told that is because I do not fit one particular style, theme, or subject matter. I do not follow the rules. I write lengthy posts, very personal posts one day, then simply share a daycation or a glass of wine with you the next. But is that not more like real life ? Every style blog has it's own place . I do marvel at how some gain followers in the thousands with ease, and others the numbers remain small. I once let it bother me, but then I had this awakening that I was writing the blog for myself and if it brought me insight, lifted my heart and soul, healed wounds, and enabled me to share, even with a few my daily journey through life...if I touched even one person, or was able to help others in ways I was unable to help myself, then it was certainly a worthy way to spend my time. If I only had one follower but that one follower gained anything, even just a smile on their face, then that would be the cherry on the top of the proverbial sundae . I have done that. Time and time again. 


People ask me what is my goal for the blog, and are shocked when I do not say fame and fortune as some bloggers try to achieve , though of course that would certainly a most wonderful thing..could you imagine me a Perez Hilton ? Certainly then I could stop writing Ellen to grant me my wish of a new smile, I could buy my Mom a new one too as she is missing most of her teeth now. I could purchase a home once again and help pay for our daughters wedding...I could buy all the lovely things many of my dear friends on Twitter chat about all day long instead of only having them be pipe dreams that will never truly form into solid matter. But would it bring me the same warmth I feel in my heart, the soaring of spirit and pride of self as when I get a comment that I touched someones life, made them consider their own lives in a different light? No, I believe that is the biggest accomplishment I can imagine and it never gets old and boring when I am told these things in the form of a comment or an email. 


So today, for my 300th post I wanted to share a gift of beauty and something that warms my heart as a way to just have this post be a gift of prose that may do the same, even if for one reader. Recently my oldest daughter was here, a surprise for my birthday...just last week as a matter of fact. She spoiled me with roses and balloons, chocolates and baubles, she then treated me to lunch and after bought me a book of poetry that I had been eying for so many months and would never justify to myself to purchase. So today, I shall share just one or two lovely passages that make my heart swoon, and hope that you enjoy my gift of thanks in the form of prose to you. 

Somewhere 

behind

the 

inspiration

was 

a 

quiet

brreathless

garden:

decayed 

by 

thunderstorms,

reflecting

light

in

its

wildflowers

and

wonder

in

its

clay

floor

you lie at my feet 

playing leapfrog

with my dreams-

as the truest eyes 

i've seen in days

reveal themselves to me....

why then 

do i gather up

these misfitted words

and send them on their way?

these 

butterfly

words

changing and disappearing

and neither mine

nor yours

to possess....

tell me again of afternoon friends

of square tables in gardens round

of shattered stars that dare not cry

washing teased by yesterday rain

and breaing sunlight by

and i will draw you of yourself

and paint this ceiling blue

i will cast this echo back 

and i-

i will love you. 

*Poems by Kylie Johnson from the book Count me the Stars available at Anthropologie