Drifting

Her shell weighted and dry, mite like irritation upon touch

Wearing her ethusiasm like stained, tattered lace

Squinted sofistication beneath an inferior history

Grotesquely adorned with rusted shackles that hold no key

Eyes drawn with the burden of memory

Flickering affect

A gentle hand passing words, supposition of light

Reminded of painted memories of when she once closed her eyes

For a moment her onerous cloak of thoughts drift

A lightness of breath

In the distance she sees it

Happiness

~Alisa Hutton

Tomorrow

Tomorrow

Hear the wind blow

Feel the breeze kiss your neck

Allow the rain to map your skin as you once did

In the depth of your mindfulness feel it all

Remember the contrary

Complacency

Raise your head

Lift

 

~Alisa Hutton

Maturity

Every line and scar I wear and the things you see in my eyes when I do not speak tell a story that is called “my life”. Those who care to know will show gentle curiosity and those who don’t were never meant for my soul.  Unsolicited advice is rarely offered in love. Simply the words from those who believe in judgement that my destination is their entitled road. I have fallen like the rest with deafening and heart breaking thumps. I offer thanks. I deeply cherish the rare who helped me stand back up when I was down. I walk with humility and extend the love I wish to know. To think my behavior and care I do or do not show does not affect the world around me would create stagnant flow. Today, I understand the importance of letting my true heart being felt and shown. I wake up scared as there is so much I do not know. This is life and the fabric that will make you whole. I have been blessed to have known love and even if it doesn’t show up it is the direction I choose to go. Criticism is for those with holes in their buckets and are not mine to repair or fill. Their field is theirs. Plant your seeds and care for them if you want them to grow. Time offered in trust, respect and care is the key to my heart. My instruction manual is as follows; be genuine and open and we’ll be all right. I have been around long enough to see the raw workings of life. The nectar of happiness, live with a kind heart and gentle eyes.

-maturity  

~Alisa Hutton

Vulnerability

It is without knowing or guarantee. Blindly jumping off an unfelt edge with no assurance of bottom or gentle landing. Faith in its purest form. Looking out in to the night and desperately trying to adjust your eyes to see, all the while knowing the only thing you need to adjust to is your comfort in total darkness.

Moments that carry our deepest hopes and fears in equal measure. Exposed and held in the same open palm, unprotected and offered to another. In shortness of breath our racing mind tries to control speed and steady the direction with a false sense of security. The universe quietly taps our awareness with heightened physical responses, panic, fear.

Reality; authenticity walks with neither regulation nor control of outcome. Hard and painful, joyous and exhilarating in one deliciously sharp bite. It is your mind screaming “be safe”, reminding you of the last time your heart was shattered in to a million pieces. While your heart steadily whispers “trust”. It is brave, strong, tender, humbling and courageous.  The journey long. The destination? True happiness.

-vulnerability

~Alisa Hutton

Love That is Kept

The simplicity of sharing, connection

We care for another, our relationship, me to you and you to I

In raw essence a desire to love and be loved

Somewhere and somehow comes the trickle of rigid thoughts

Ego

We are being taught

We are being judged

Sized and sorted for worth

Holding on to our inner most thoughts and feelings

Fear the open and free

Interpreted intent other than love for one another

Simplicity strays losing its way

Lost in care, lost in compassion, lost in kindness

Blinded by our own internal sight of protective rules and historical hurt

Human art covered for no other soul to appreciate or adore in its naked and true form

To be loved

Unique color and fine stroke

Blurred

In quiet breathe one comes to understand that love not accepted, seen or understood is the materialized burden another is carrying on their back

Only the heaviness is carried by all of us

For love not given is love not accepted, the two must dance in mutual fall

It is the complexity of our unique human art

The human paradox

In quiet you will find  the boundless love you have to give and a purity of love you need to burst in full color

The inhale and exhale of equal importance to a genuine life

Complimentary existence for happiness

You will learn that love unlived, unsaid and unshared is the root of human rot

You will learn this particular shade is the only color shared on my canvas and yours

The same fears and vulnerabilities

Yet here we sit holding on to our love as if it is some how wrong to give

Sad as I do believe

Love that is kept

Is never felt at all

~Alisa Hutton

Now

As the winter air bit at her cheeks in her forest of thoughts

Her heart weighted, indulging in sadness

A past heavy in disappointment

Her future never arriving between blinks

She gave herself permission

You may

Close the gap of your expectations now

Family looks as it feels

Not what was fictionally written

Home is not made of carefully placed cushions or well-appointed rugs

She was not “them”, “she” or “her”

She was “I “

“I” knew happiness was to be felt, not chased

“I” felt love for people, not things

“I” knew time was welth, not income

“I” gave permission

To let “them” be the holder of expectations

“I” will live a beautiful life

~Alisa Hutton