it's 5 a.m. and i'm
wide awake again
my mind won't stop so i
get up and put the kettle on,
realize i've been trying to solve
the world's problems in
my sleep. and it's early
enough i have time to think more
while i drink my caffeine
in the tub, remembering how
privileged it is to have
safety, hot water, enough food
to eat. an education. we're fighting
a war of ideas. so what do i say to

it's been so long, what do i
remember? boo radley, for sure,
how the kids befriended him, or
was it the other way around?
there was a tree where they left
gifts for one another. later in
life when i would go letterboxing i
always thought of boo, but also
remember how much scout wanted to
drink coffee, it was a rite of
passage, and she wanted to be like
her older brother. also, the

i remember our
first date at that italian
restaurant chain, how i had
soup in my beard but didn't
know until the mirror told me so.

in truth, it is
a moment like any other,
but in it is
fullness of joy.
i know that these
small possibilities
aren't really small
at all, but just
beginnings. in the

each one is diff'rent
from the last, an experience
in itself, and i don't want
to miss out, if one didn't
follow on the heels of

i am so blessed to be

your daughter, to have

inherited your

creativity, a beautiful

gift i'm so glad that

my mom had a lot of plants
when we were kids, at least at first.
i remember them from when we
lived in iowa. there was
an ivy plant i loved
that lived on top of the
piano, wound up winding
itself down the side and almost
to the floor. it made me think about

i've never had children
of my own; i made
artwork instead. but i
marvel at the fierceness
of the love i have for
my sisters' children.

what a gift to be rewarded
with for our curiosity, a
readiness to entertain the idea
of future friends unlike any
that we'd known before, to have
opened the door to we who once were
strangers from oceans away, those
same seas that will soon part us
again. but distance can't diminish

i will probably never change the world.

this is okay with me.

i will get up every morning

and focus on my ripple

the ring of concentric circles

extending out from

i wonder
how babies feel
about being born.
it's safer in
the womb, but

we wear our heart on the
outside because somebody loved
this neighborhood so much
that she rescued this house
from the flood. she fought back
against those who wanted to
tear it all down, who said
restoration can't be done, it's
too far gone. she knew someday
that there would be love
in this house. because

i always tell people
when they ask
i'm from texas, because
who wants to be born in the
midwest? though i do grow
nostalgic, at times, for

i am so often
a n x i o u s,
feeling as though
my heart will burst,
alternating between a
desire to ran a w  a   y
or (hide) not knowing
which to do so that  i’m
paralyzed. once

i don't yet know
how to say
the things inside
that need saying.
i only know that

i love the liminal, those

moments in between who we

are and who we could

turn out to be. when you're

traveling, there's a heightened

they can be difficult
for some. we put so much
pressure to be perfect
on ourselves, to be
awesome at all times.