there once was a woman who ran away

for thousands of miles and hundreds of days

she ran to be no more the woman who wanted

she ran to be free from a life that was haunted

she ran ’til she came to the edge of the sea

and asked herself there what she wanted to be

~

she said that she wanted to know her own mind

not only to seek but sometimes to find

she said that she wanted her heartbreak to mend

to live a beginning instead of an end

she said that she wanted to be whole alone

and to heal from the death of a dream of a home

~

there once was a woman who ran away

from wishing that someone would ask her to stay

but she found in the end that she ran to herself

for in circling the world there was nobody else

who would hold her and hide her and comfort her too

who would brighten her yellows and lighten her blues

~

so she held her own hand and she combed her own hair

and some words washed away but she didn’t much care

and she sang to the sea and the rain and the sun

and she felt the tide turn and she knew she’d begun

for the woman who’d set off to run away

found that she was the one place she wanted to stay

~

maggie and milly and molly and may

went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang

so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles, and

milly befriended a stranded star

whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing

which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone

as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

Hi there, folks.  Melinda here, aka ‘Buster’s mummytins’ or ‘the bunny lady’. After having been stateside for three years I am leaving my beloved California and hitting the road to spend some quiet, intense, healing time with myself and my work and my thoughts.  And my rabbit, Buster Rosy, aka Busty, Busta-Rhyme, Fluff-Muffin, or Doofus-Face (depending on who’s speaking).  We are relocating semi-permanently to the Old Country while we try and figure life out.  We’re starting in Ireland, where I will be acting as a caprine midwife and helping goats have bebes throughout Spring.  Then we’ll be in Germany, where I’ll shift from ruminants to humans for a much-anticipated Leo birth in Summer. And come Autumn, we’ll be on the shores of Boka Kotorska in Montenegro, where my family’s name still lives and where I will be grounding out and making a home for the near future. Throughout this I’ll be taking side trips:  to Paris, city of my heart.  To England, where my godmother lives in Faerietale Land.  To Greece with a dear friend for sunning in swimsuits. To Iceland for the Northern Lights. Buster is coming along for the ride, trusting soul that he is, and rather than read about my adventures, which I fear will be quite tedious, I offer you Buster’s.  Europe through the eyes of a lop-eared doofus-face. Thanks for stopping by… and do please drop us a line if you are so inclined!