All who I love have taught me to love
by listening deeply to myself;
this was a new thing for me for a while…
and in that listening,
I heard my spirit rage inside the hours
upon hours of furious overcompensation
and constant recuperation
from our city hive,
hours that outnumbered the
hours we spent
in creative work and love.
A calling to leave,
a calling to arrive; there are few
corners of the universe
where my earthly body
can explore,
and today, I am summoned
to one.
~~ Julia Daye
The problem with putting
a sign on the
door of your
china shop,
is that
then,
people
come
in.
–Julia Daye
Promising this time
to own my ending honorably,
I put a sign on the door,
but the more people learn of
my sacred room,
the more cluttered it seems to get.
They stay too long,
leave things behind;
some moments its hard to breathe
around all the questions
and holdings
and prophesies.
The far window gets blurry when you
hold me so tight,
hand me everything you’ve been
holding–
here love, take these with you—
your eyes plead with me
to keep you safe as I go:
magic mother, gallant sailor, rogue child,
what is the recipe for safety?
— Julia Daye
Knocking sounds down the hall
as I pack my suitcase to the radio,
eager bones ain’t no match for this delicious
acoustic hymn.
I don’t feel guilty for basking in ignoring,
I’m dreaming of other things now;
responding only
to the tea kettle as it bursts and I run,
visualizing open roads
while sipping its sweetness.
— Julia Daye
investigating reality 