Happy Birthday Sunbeam!

After eleven years with this sweet spirit, I know clearly that he will never stop shining. There is a sort of dazzling light in his heart that illuminates beyond all odds.

He shared with me one day the idea that the sun would die and that life would die and how that thought made him feel so sad. I told him to write about it:

"Our sun will become an expanding sun, burn its hydrogen, and then turn into a helium flash, which will shrink and expand and shed its outer layers. It will become a ring nebula and then it will turn into a small white dwarf and cool down to become a cold, dense black dwarf that will no longer radiate energy and then no one will ever know that it was alive and that it produced life." -Sahaj

He is the single soul in my life who makes me most hopeful; he believes in the feasibility of impossible things. 

I'm truly blessed to celebrate another birthday with this beautiful beam!!

Sickle and Hammer Soldier

Siddhartha:

Born in an age of transformation and wonder,

under the blue-light;

the bearer of water,

he knows the eightfold path

and the four noble truths

And after twelve years, he is a true star. He has become a witty comedian, an exquisite writer, and a dramatic artist. 

A few months ago, he gave me one of his drawings: 

The Sickle and Hammer Soldier

I see a young man: worn, wounded, battered; his chest torn open, heart splattered, blue-red blood. With the memory of brighter days, green meadows; lazy summers; spring waters, he carries on. Under the red sun, he holds his inner light in perseverance. And, it is that soul who wanders beyond ease and comfort, who will eventually find the purest form of salvation. 

Happy 12th birthday

to our little

old-soul,

Siddhartha

Judah Turns Eight

This beautiful young man is our middle child. 

When you have two bright and creative older brothers ahead of you and two younger siblings who gather up all the attention they need from everyone around you, you might become a little weary, always placed in the middle of things. Yet, Judah seems to know how to fit into the ranks with his older brothers when it comes to manners and chores and the important things, like remembering when your homework is due. In the same breath, he is able to pull himself under covers with his younger brother and sister, turn on a flashlight, and read stories to them into the night. I've watch their little heads bounce around the covers, and I've listened to the laughter and felt the contentment in my heart, knowing that the little two admire him so much.

Judah, he sees as far as the stars and hears the sound of rain fall. His bright brown eyes and dream-like laughter, his colorful mind, his comfort with each day, makes him a jewel among the tribe. 

I hope that every day is a celebration for him, but today is a day for gifts and love and merry play, for Judah turns eight, and I couldn't imagine my days without his cheerful ways. 

Happy birthday

Mahatma Judah!

Handmade Things

When there is a new baby in the house, handmade things are an ongoing project for me. Now that the littlest, and the last of the brew, is three years old, I have a bit of empty space to fill with handmade love for friends. Here is collection of crafts that I've made in the past few months. 

 For Alli, a pretty young lady, who celebrated her tenth year of life recently. 

 A fall lantern for my fabulous author friend, Kim Culbertson; love the way it illuminates her space.

 Light for our own nature table during the Hallow season.

 And, a fairy flag for Iris, one of our dearest little friends. 

A few words, with a little scent of magic.

Now that Winter Solstice is peering around the corner, I will spend a few days busily crafting stars. Our winter owl hopes to have a silver and white, star-studded alter this year, which means that I must get started on sprinkling glitter and snow around here. 

★

Things That I Love

The things that I love always include some sort of shimmer:

the peak of each season

the sound of a hollow planet, as snow begins to fall

crisp, sharp, horrid, delicate words

a swarm of bees

spring rain, bare feet, a lengthy kiss

capering under a star-studded sky

lavender, hops, bitter tea

a swirling fire in the middle of the woods

and the moon, 
I love most

For some reason today, I felt it was necessary to make a list.

Happy Ten Years, Sunbeam!

Aaron and I sat around last night, talking about how special Sahaj is, and I said to my husband, he's the nicest person I've ever met in this world. And truly, Sahaj is. I don't know anything else more real. 

In our little pack of wolves, he is always the first to stand up and help. I secretly wish I knew what it felt like to have him as an older brother. 

Our only summer baby, he's a ball of delight in every season.

 As you may know already, I have a thing about writing down statements that my kids make. I tuck scraps of paper smeared with their sense and spirit into notebooks. Here is some insite I scribbled earlier this year:

"You can turn something dark into something bright, just add stars." 

-Sahaj

His words are jewels,

just like his eyes. 

This little boy, who is growing into such a handsome, devoted young man, holds my heart(and Haile's, too). 

We've spent the majority of this lazy summer reading, and I've just finished a book which was highly recommended to me by Sahaj, Odd and the Frost Giants. He tells me that he enjoyed most, the part where the rainbow was formed out of ice, and then they fell into Asgard. 

He's just a good kid. I hope to spend so many more days with him, trading books, reading about supernovas, coloring the world, and seeing the trail of magic that is left behind after his laughter. 

A Seething Sea

She set out with her morning song
in the waning hour of the moon
foot soles bare, above the salt water sea
her memories held loose, trailing beyond her dreams

She offers her silence
into the ring:
the shimmering part of her mind
rich, golden flare,
killing the years of her life
thick with gray hope,
where she lost her red heart

The pieces of sky
have fallen a long way now
She gathers them, delicately
inhaling the earliest mist of morning
swallowing each sliver, inhabiting this place

In the distance, she sees
the glimmer of her heart,
hoping to clear this aerial breeze
yet, the sea is never forgiving
its belly, plump and full
waiting for the moon to become ripe again,
the sea - ready to birth another eternity,
swallows her clean