honeysuckle: poems by colleen cosette goodman

trying

I am trying to send my blessings to you. I think of it and you are happy and full of light and painting on a hilltop surrounded by your friends and maybe even I am there. You have torn my guts up but it is not your fault; the way the world revolves is not your fault, the way my life works is not your fault. So I send you my love and blessings and try to let my heart be free and not curdle like milk. I place my hand on my heart and breathe the pure love of Mary into my heart, full of grace.

The eighteenth of April, 2017.