Another month finds us in the flurry of living. May this October fill you and may your intervals of emptiness, be filled to the brim, too.

I offer this poetry oracle from the depths of my heart; the privacy of my own desires and my propensity to scry anything that meets the altar of presence. I’ve been in quite a state lately. And I’ll toss out the vagueness that I usually adorn when I write these for an air of precision that is much more akin to my style of expression - the state that I’ve been in .. oh yes, I’ve been exploring the other side of ecstatic bliss and connection which is the mundane: and the bounty that comes with only doing what keeps me afloat has been liberating.

If nothing else, the past few months, speak to a resolve that I have desired to cultivate for what feels like, lifetimes. And to know and sit with the resounding clarity of remembering that I am my own best friend, I offer this poem as a reflection to what happens when one dares to befriend themselves. All parts of themselves. Daily. Hourly. By the minutia of each passing minute. And I hope that when you set the table for yourself, it is filled with a harvest that is wholly recognizable, to you. I wish for all beings brave enough to bare their own depths to witness all they have reaped. And I pray you continue to sift through life’s sediment to continue weaving; to witness your knots and continue to sow.

Enjoy.