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breeannaksmith

The class that couldn't end (and why should it?)

The harmony of how we can giggle and tease one another one moment, then shift into a reverence of silence and safety as our hearts pour out into the space. 

 

Our heads bow as the words are dug for deeper within ourselves. 

Pens scratch at the page feverishly for some, gliding softly for others. 


Our hands reflexively reach for our chests or to the hand next to us as we  share the deepest corners of our souls out loud.


Tears stream down cheeks while reading. Choking back breath. “Take all the time you need. We got you.” - I say. Because we do. 


A tidal wave of joy and laughter from one, a storm of pain and ache from another. Both equally beautiful and moving in the exact same way, yet polar opposite. 


As the sacred circle closes, some leave quick, others linger. Some share with each other what their pieces meant. Somehow the remaining of us find a way back into the living room, creating a new circle, smaller, sacred just the same.


Mom and dad are off duty tonight…. 


More wine is poured 

More poetry is shared 

More songs are sung 

More music is played 

More tears are shed 

More questions are asked 

More connections are made 

More “thank you for sharing” are said 

More “i’m sorry that happened” are given

More hugs are held 

More sleep is lost, but at a price well worth the cost for the memories made of allowing time to stretch just a little bit longer. 

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