Have you ever wondered if the tears you shed in the margins of your life actually mattered? That they were nourishing good ground and making things grow?
From the tears I shed during my year long stint on Saba while my husband attended medical school, I penned a short book of poetry title “Words the Dirt meant to Share.” Over the summer, this manuscript was picked up by a publisher, Desert Willow Press.
I am proud to announce that my book is now available for preorder.
The book of poetry is dedicated to “The Unspoiled Queen” and perfectly captures the tension of darkness and light that I found in the tropical soil of my life there. You need both to grow and become something beautiful.
I hope you find in the syntax of these pages that the very life that is breaking you, is the very life that can save you.
Here is a small excerpt from the book:
The Tipsy Goat Bar
Blue jeans and sorrow have this in common:
They never fit when you want them to.
The crux of my pain is the shadow of your gaze.
Is not the cherry every drink’s prize?
Perhaps, I will be here again when I’m eighty,
full of stories, and seeds, and palm branches in my hair.
I don’t care to make sense, I just want to matter,
to carry meaning in my heart, and take pictures, proudly.
Namely, know the words the dirt meant to share
and the clemency of clouds mating bright against the sunlight.