Tell Me

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When did scarcity roll over you, wilting you timid and fearful?

What darkened childhood tale shadowed your lightness and spirit, giving away your bold?

Who changed you so short that your worth became socially outsourced to the new and unknown?

When the sun rises it reminds us with furious beauty that moments are spectacular. Well thought plans, penned goals and shiny thoughts trivial pursuits of those who will never grow.

The rain that drenched you with indignation, coming unannounced on a summer day? The universes way of tapping you awake to all you never will control.

What happened between the first moments your eyes opened to the universe to where you stand today? Unable to muster the courage to stutter the words your heart desires, I miss you, I love you, please don’t go.

Our heart and our soul intuitively tells us when we are home.

An unspoken settled place is our being, a warmth, a person who undoubtedly many lifetimes we have known.

Tell me, when did scarcity roll over you?

Leaving you all alone.

~Alisa Hutton

Salt

salt

Nails bleeding

Clawing yourself out

Primal

Gasping for authentic air to touch your soul

Scars rot with infection begging to feel the warmth of new life unfold

Even the most gentle of touches hurt

Cracked open

Raw

Salt poured on open wounds

The paradox of the heal and burn

~Alisa Hutton

Seasons

kits

Cold winds that blew through your deepest chambers

How you longed for genuine warmth

Icy droplets that bit at your light falling from never-ceasing grey skies

The tap of consciousness reminding you, mind who you invite to your table in good nature

The freeze that arrived that one night hardening your most precious vulnerabilities

You hear the echo of the dull thud of your soul as it hit the floor, followed by your needed wake

Yesterday, I sat in a moment

Warm winds gently blowing

The afternoon sun warming my face

Sand between my toes, the waves lapping the tides in their unique chime

Breathing in the salt air, the ocean whispered in its unique filling way

Trust yours seasons as they brought you here

Today

~Alisa Hutton

In The Quiet

harriet

I sat on my bench waiting for you

Inhaling the winter air I closed my eyes

A kiss touching my lips

A gentle heart keeps us warm amidst the feelings of sharp cold

Waiting

Reserved for souls with a comfortable love of the quiet

Those who can feel the gifts of loneliness and tight hold with equal respect and desire

A gratitude for discomfort as it nudges us towards our sincerest warmth

The ones who have faith and trust in the intuitive nature of departure and arrival

Snow falling gently dresses my surround in a blanket of soft white

Tree limbs wrapping me in their nurturing cover

Reminding me of the importance to be generous and without ask in love

Balanced with the humility of knowing it creates a story and life much larger than you or I

The silence

Allowing my ears to hear the steps you take

The space

Allowing me to honor your path with care

Slowly my heart learned to trust in the quiet

While I was sitting on my bench waiting for you

~Alisa Hutton

Photo Credit ~ Harriet Fancott