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Only powder feet on the mountain today. Alone, sole survivor of comfort. Somewhere out there you fight furiously lonesome, too. My heart is with you. Thinking of you as I wring the words out my stale soul. But here again, standing toe to toe with the heights, overlooking all journeys possible at once. Top of the run, tip of my heart, freshly beat for you. This is for you. Yes you. You dreamer, still believer. Crying, trying, still showing up to fight for your own. Your stillness, your peace, your completeness. Here for your fall, and the rise. You mother, you father, you brother & sister, you daughter, you son (in-law), you colleague, you dear friend. You will rise. From the mountain. For a moment, I see all the journeys. I see you. Rise.

A word without a note as companion. Without a melody to shore up a welling inside. Just want to rouse my spirit to magnetize our moment. Juice all the rays dripping on skin. Wash all the electric air into our ears. Sweet things bristle into sensors we earned with sweat and tears on the mountain. This life has everything ready for us. We just have to step out the door and sing. Hear oh life, it is I! Beaming your joy without expectation of return because you have already given me everything. “Will you always protect me?” It was asked. You will be rich. You will be full. You will share our fire and never be lost. Here my love, it is I.

Damn. Today red meat in the upper feels hollow. Wish I could peel the sludge back and zap it back into motion. Mondays, restarts. Context shifting, babies go their ways and we dive in. Clicky clackity. It’s all so important. Just when I get tired, you reach out. You spark me. Not hollow because of lack of purpose, or gratitude. Just dead weight of the old skinning forth for new. Now, to see you soon my love.

I see you glorious. You’re laughing with your brothers and yours. Twenty years apart, bound by soothing whispers, more careless days than worries. Leaps of joy into unknown because we can. Not afraid of where, because a thousand times land into arms untaxed. Late night talks to understand what I couldn’t. Connecting, sharing. You’ll show them deep long after I’m gone. I know, believe me it’s beautiful. Always see you smiling, my Josie.

Full life, mind prickling at the seams. Ever ready to record, always missing the mark. Bashful to face the lens. There it is, those eyes. Won't lose focus again. Your blurry smile whipping sideways, I see it in my frame. Yosemite. Your slow motion fall off smirk. Beach baby. Find the uncomfortable, bring you along, and we will create. MoMa rain. Red carpet, old carpet, Pamela or Oxford. Doesn't matter. It's always opening night as I draw you into arms. On stage premiering our little life. Our life again and again. The best story I'll ever be. Before fade to black, lights off, and tally dim. We roll baby. Let's roll.

My beautiful now slipping away. My beaming angel in the winter light. I finally emerge from my machine entrapment: the basement, forever looking forward to the lion in the bush instead of the abundance of love in my hands. But now I see you, a pure call from my lighthouse. You take me away to a better place. Your wisps of blonde were catching the winter sun bent low to the horizon. Did you know it casts a long shadow and entrances all objects in its glow? You entrance me. I stop and gaze. I won’t leave. No, my Rowan. I’ll find your eyes. Yours find mine. We smile. My heart shines. I want to leave my love onto your soul as quickly while the worry slips back down off my shoulder and slithers to its cave. I’m free for a moment. Free to see you. To dodge back and forth behind the couch, playing hide and seek to create a memory for myself. Now I write to burn it forever for us both. You laugh, I laugh. Lola laughs with us. She is a vessel for your joy. I turn to leave and you cry out in a deep agony. My love! How could I break your heart? Yes, you will grow old and be well, sharing in an everyday heartbreak of a babe losing its connection. Lola will heal you. But as I try to console you, I know the truth. You live it, you are the truth. The moment is everything, this is everything. I’m sorry I lost it, but it’s life and it’s beautiful. Now I burn these words onto our souls with love. I bind us together forever as we pass this story down. Stay forever my beaming angel in the winter light. 📸 <a href="https://lykdfrgkwzswynrovsxr.supabase.co/storage/v1/object/public/user-media/twilio-user/1769038362658.jpeg">See photo</a>

If I rise to half the occasion, let it be the farthest star I can see.

How extraordinary will my effort be? How much of your beauty can I know? You leave me with twisted words and pumping veins just to express. How can I be capable of the sliver of you that I know? I'll never embrace the splendid whole. It's the sad beautiful weight of the fraction that thrills me to you. Will I rise to be worthy of our time? This is my question. Thank you dear life and my close love for sharing a piece of your infinite perfection with me. As I stare at you as matter, maybe I see a bit of my perfection too.

"She's a caretaker, not a taker, gotta take care of mine" killer mike

Environment at fully grateful potential, body at 2/3rds (what me, sick?), intention high. How is my clarity on goals and focus? Hit me up if you want a sounding board for your 2026 goal planning!