Before I write a poem as soft as falling snow, I want to write a note to you.
I will tell you the truth.
The poem will be soft as falling snow and as cold as all that, too. I will not write it from the warmth of a fireplace inside a cabin built by trusting hands.
I will write it from the forest, where my shoes are so wet my feet are wrinkled, where the sky is so full of flurry I cannot see the trees. I will write it bark-bruised, frost-bit, cracked-lip.
Before I respond to messages piled up like autumn leaves, I will write a note to you.
I will tell you the truth.
I could have caught those leaves on their way down. I couldn’t help the falling, but they didn’t need to land, to pile, to bury themselves in their own seasoning.
I will tell you the truth.
A spring weed truth, popping through the pavement like miniature stars. A summer truth, ever-lasting. A warm hug of sunshine that squeezes so hard your skin waters itself to sustain the holding.
Before I do what I have to do, I will write a note to you.
I will tell you how glad I am that you are here, at the end of every pencil I hold, on the other side of every keyboard. I will tell you all the things I mean to say.
I will tell you that I love you.
And that will be the truth, even when the path is snow-flurry hidden, even when the path is trying to hold back my stars, even when the path is sweating or spiced, or lost, or in the making.
I will tell you the truth.
I will tell you that you are loved, and it will remind me, that I am too. And maybe that will make it easier to do
all the little things
I have to do.
rarasaur 
I’m am glad that we are both loved 💕 so that we can easily do our errands! Hugs 🤗
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Yes! Hugs! You are very very loved, and in my thoughts often. I hope you are blossoming well. ❤
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Beautiful!
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Thank you, Tara! 😀
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We love you, too. xoxo
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*super hugs*
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Truth from the front lines, from the place where it is hardest to appreciate is always better and more meaningful than the truth that comes from comfort in front of that safe cabin fire.
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I’d like to think so too. It’s a stronger kind of truth. 🙂 Thank you for reading.
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That’s beautiful
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Thank you for reading 🙂
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Your writing fills me up so. Every. Single. Piece. It’s so FULL. And, since your words are always so beautiful, my words can’t ever seem to express the beauty I feel when I read them.
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That’s so sweet, thank you!! ❤
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That’s piercing my heart. The painful feelings hidden in your words palpable and touching. Truth is, you are loved too. I cherish your words and the soul that’s behind them.
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Thank you so much, Anne. I appreciate you.
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How did all these leaves get in my hair?? I guess that’s what happens when you sit under a Dinosaur tree. Maybe that’s why I like sitting under a Dinosaur tree. Hope you are well, old truth-teller.
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