“A piece about the season I’m in/going into would be beautiful! Coming from a season of grief & uncertainty and entering a season of motherhood & giving birth to a daughter. Do what you will with that information!

Sight: glimmers of light & shadows on the carpet from the leaves on the trees against the windows // Sound: cooing of a baby, birds chirping from the outside // Smell: fresh flowers and grass coming up for the spring // Taste: coffee? // Touch: cool wind brushing face, feeling of peach fuzz on a baby’s face.”

the dawn came

and danced with

delight on my walls.

she taught me how to

hold pain and joy

as tenderly as

the daughter

i’d soon carry in my arms.

her wise counsel: “life, sweet life, is still to be found in this season.”

This is for my husband; I knew he would be an incredible father to Anthem, but watching them is beyond anything I could have expected. they’re absolutely in love with one another, and he is an incredibly supportive, gentle, steadfast, joyful, and silly dad, despite being raised by a harsh man who passed when he was only 18. He is Anthem’s biggest fan, he dances with her, encourages her in everything. I feel that he has overcome so much, reevaluated his view of/relationship with God, and put in so much work to be the father he is to Anthem, and I feel inspired by him every single day.

sight-him singing and dancing with her daily, their secret handshake, and him being absolutely astonished-even now, when she’s almost a year old-by the fact that she is his daughter. also, the way that she’ll look at him from across a room and smile until she catches his eye, and then she’ll give a little chuckle, almost as if she knows he is wrapped around her little finger and she has his full heart for the rest of his life. he stayed up with her one night watching Westerns when she was brand new bc she was congested, and he always says that’s a core memory for him

sound-his song “Anfy Mae, I love you, mom and dada’s dream come true” on repeat

you’ve given our anfy mae

the gift of a lifetime — 

a father so steadfast,

a father so strong, 

a father so loving,

a father to whom she’ll belong.

the words fall short

to describe the man you’ve become,

a heart of gold, the father you needed

as a son.

the songs you sing about your dreams coming true,

but your girls are singing the same about you.

secret handshakes and morning laughs,

watching westerns, safely snuggled in your lap.

a heart wide open, arms just the same;

our shield from the storms,

a home in every way.

you're the man of my dreams forever

the father she needs today,

we’ll keep on loving you together

until the end of our days.

Freedom, motherhood, growing and learning but remembering who you were before becoming a mother too, growing up and finding yourself but remembering where you come from! Laughter, love, peacefulness. Long and whimsy // Tone- nostalgic and optimistic towards future

Sight: easy light rain Sound: water, lake or small stream, birds Smell: campfire/cedarwood, walking through fresh a fresh rain in the forest and pine Touch: wet tree bark, cold water Feeling refreshed and revitalized and renewed

there are a thousand versions

of myself,

but they are all rooted in her —

the one who ran wild

in the tall grasses of freedom,

never letting her spirit grow cold.

the little girl with eyes of wonder

and hair of gold.

i see her often;

daring myself to dip my toes once again

into risky dreams,

finding a home in the mountains,

and breathing in the forest by the streams.

i see her in my child.

his eyes, just like mine,

full of wonder without a

worry on his mind.

his pure curiosity, his

soft touch,

his sweet knowing

that simplicity is enough.

this love, my freedom.

this world, my peace.

this son, my teacher.

they warned me i would lose myself in motherhood,

but there she is

again

sitting in a field of flowers

calling me back

to my wild wondrous self.

This is for my wife, and our first year anniversary. We met at a country concert where I asked her to dance, and at the beginning of our relationship, we would go dancing at least two nights out of the week. Cheyenne has a strong and tough personality but there is a sweet side to her that loves deeply, cares about the people around her. she has an incredible sense of humor, is extraordinarily witty and has a great laugh. She has a sense for adventure, loves to camp and travel. She does so much for our family, and want to let her know how much we love and appreciate her. I’d like the poem to be short and punchy.

The memories all kind of blur together, but when I close my eyes I see the color purple, I see her light brown hair whipping as we spin around the dance hall with live music blaring, a sawdust covered dance floor and even though it’s crowded we are locked in to one another.

my sweet and my spitfire,

the love of my life

twirling around on those sawdust nights.

from day one it’s always been you

a wild kind of free,

both tender and true.

i promise i’ll dance with you

through every stage of life.

so here’s to the beginning of forever,

my best friend, my wife.