It’s not quite an itch;

It’s like

running into a waterfall,

like being surprised at the sweet coolness of the mist,

like being encompassed,

for one second,

by a liquid wall

that distorts the world into shapes and colors

that gives you a new lens

to see what you didn’t before,

in a way that you didn’t before,

and it’s like

jumping off a cliff,

like feeling your heart up in your eyeballs,

like knowing that any moment you’ll hit the water,

but for one long second,

seeing the world in a standstill from a higher place

that gets lower and becomes slowly blurred

until you are enclosed

in another world,

it’s like

walking in the forest,

like smelling the pine and knowing nothing else,

like the crispness of the air, a new clarity

that begins with the sharp snap of a twig

and the thumping of a woodpecker

and for one second

it’s green leaves and pines and moss on trees

it’s stillness and the thump



of your heart in your chest

it’s like


like knowing, acutely, that you



that you exist in space and time

that you



that for one moment

you just are;

it’s like


it is

and you can’t live

without it

because it’s written in your veins.

We are blooming in the soft,
summer light;
barely aware of the world
past the bedroom.
Today, I stuff thank you notes
into your coat pockets
to tell you how grateful I am
that you love me.
Today, my eyes study the blue embrace
of the sky and what it means to stand still.
Today, I am only absorbing;
taking in how the wind moves in waves
and the neighbor’s dog snoozes
under the warmth of the sun.
We are blooming, 
and I can feel the bones in my chest
slowly expand, shifting open
like gentle palms,
letting it in,
letting it all in.
—  Schuyler Peck, Garden Lessons
work thoughts

-customers don’t actually want to know how you’re doing.  I’ve tried answering this question honestly in full and I’ve come to understand it’s really just a formality, so I settle for “pretty good, what can I get for you?” (they’re probably going to start telling me right away anyway)

-today at work I alphabetized the syrups like a boss (some dude has been just putting them wherever on the shelf), and found a bottle that had this written on it: “naturally flavored with other natural flavor.”

-a poem: “Working at a coffee shop/The daily grind for pay/If you asked me how I feel/”Bean better,” I would say.”

Sitting By the Ocean...With You

When you look at me
I don’t see the stars
Or out to cold space
What would I know
Of that far off place
When you look at me
I see a warm day
Feet sunk in cool sand
And the sound of waves
As you hold my hand
I’d take the ocean
Over any star
And I’ll sit by you
As by the ocean
As if that far star
Lost all its lever
And the day lasted
Just forever


I hope to be happy in the future. Living in a beautiful old apartment with the love of my life waking up late on Sunday mornings cooking golden pancakes and making warm coffee. I cannot wait to dance and sing in the car with my girlfriend to old songs on the way to work. I cannot wait to feel the adrenaline rush of bending down on one knee to my girlfriend and watch her beautiful face light up with joy. I hope I bloom into a beautiful kind and caring person by the side of my wife. I hope to be a traveller of this beautiful world we live in. I hope to be able to spread kindness and to receive it in every way possible. I hope to help the less fortunate when I can. I hope to start a gorgeous garden and watch the flowers grow just like I do. I hope to be successful in my work, to take pride in what I do and work my hardest in all aspects. I hope to come home from work to my beautiful wife painting her nails in the sunshine outside. I hope to give every trace of love to my beautiful wife and make her feel like she is a work of art in a gallery on a busy street. I can’t wait to treat my wife like gold. I can’t wait to make people feel happy. I cannot wait to feel at one with nature and myself. I cannot wait and until I experience all of those gorgeous moments I will dream until I do. I will get there, I will.
When everyone seems either sad
or filled with rage,
take refuge in your secret place.
And once you feel you have recharged
decide it’s time to leave your cave.
Now run toward the roar,
run toward your siblings –
remind them that Paradise
is an earthly concept
And merely Mother is able
to offer us with certainty
a possibility
of finding what we seek.
Do not rely on hope alone
but do embody it.
Find virtue within yourself –
let it be your weapon.
You are now a warrior of love.
—  A. S. Vollmer

I go down to the park
to colour the petals in black

I tell myself
it’s to make the darkness beautiful

but I’m mocked
by the vibrancy
and the blossoming
that passed me by.

I shouldn’t destroy
with envy.

For once this does not
taste like oversteeped tea,
there is no bitterness inside of me.

How often I wonder if our adventures
were only a dream.
Reality could never be that wonderful, it seems.

The mountains and the birds of the air
saw what we had there.
They giggled and gossiped,
passing rain clouds and subtle sounds
back and forth to each other,

“These two do not yet know
that they are beloved and lover”

And I was so at rest that I fell asleep
on top of a rock, in that raw wilderness.

—  // We will meet again // S.K.K. // July 18, 2016

Poetry filled trip down the St. Lawrence River (Le Fleuve St. Laurent). Full text is in the caption below.

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