Kayla Harp
@kaylaharp.bsky.social
@babka.bsky.social happy birthday, dear friend! sending love and wishes that sweet unexpected moments of tenderness, joy, and hope find you today and throughout the year. may every work in and of your heart be blessed! ♾️ 🌷
December 30, 2025 at 3:40 PM
@babka.bsky.social happy birthday, dear friend! sending love and wishes that sweet unexpected moments of tenderness, joy, and hope find you today and throughout the year. may every work in and of your heart be blessed! ♾️ 🌷
“…the panic caught her again and she thought of the people who had been with her when she first started to cross the street, blocks away by now, having tried and made perhaps a dozen lights while she had hesitated at the first;
October 29, 2025 at 4:08 PM
“…the panic caught her again and she thought of the people who had been with her when she first started to cross the street, blocks away by now, having tried and made perhaps a dozen lights while she had hesitated at the first;
the best part of checking my oldest child’s work
October 29, 2025 at 3:44 PM
the best part of checking my oldest child’s work
someone I love died this week of a heart attack. she was a wonderful, compassionate physician who cared for me for 15 years through many ups and downs and family health struggles. she delighted in my children and accepted their love and homemade gifts whole-heartedly.
…
…
July 26, 2025 at 6:09 AM
someone I love died this week of a heart attack. she was a wonderful, compassionate physician who cared for me for 15 years through many ups and downs and family health struggles. she delighted in my children and accepted their love and homemade gifts whole-heartedly.
…
…
Mike and Fred
Mike was hugging Fred (but if you saw him, it would look like he was hugging nothing). “I love you, Fred,” Mike said. “Ha ha!” said a voice. “Stop talking to the air.”
Mike was hugging Fred (but if you saw him, it would look like he was hugging nothing). “I love you, Fred,” Mike said. “Ha ha!” said a voice. “Stop talking to the air.”
May 21, 2025 at 6:23 PM
Mike and Fred
Mike was hugging Fred (but if you saw him, it would look like he was hugging nothing). “I love you, Fred,” Mike said. “Ha ha!” said a voice. “Stop talking to the air.”
Mike was hugging Fred (but if you saw him, it would look like he was hugging nothing). “I love you, Fred,” Mike said. “Ha ha!” said a voice. “Stop talking to the air.”
I turned the corner to check on her and gasped, she was so glorious. #writingtree
April 26, 2025 at 4:13 AM
I turned the corner to check on her and gasped, she was so glorious. #writingtree
a love that needs nothing
in order to love —
no extraordinary gift
or deserving action,
no perfect peace
or favorable circumstance;
a love more powerful in us
to offer mercy
than on our own
we have ever begun to be.
in order to love —
no extraordinary gift
or deserving action,
no perfect peace
or favorable circumstance;
a love more powerful in us
to offer mercy
than on our own
we have ever begun to be.
April 20, 2025 at 5:01 AM
a love that needs nothing
in order to love —
no extraordinary gift
or deserving action,
no perfect peace
or favorable circumstance;
a love more powerful in us
to offer mercy
than on our own
we have ever begun to be.
in order to love —
no extraordinary gift
or deserving action,
no perfect peace
or favorable circumstance;
a love more powerful in us
to offer mercy
than on our own
we have ever begun to be.
high water
on a long drive today,
a slanted tree grows in its own direction
from the flooded Illinois plain:
welcome.
there is too much water
among so many late bloomers;
I nurture a hope that the tree
under which I write
may yet enter into spring.
on a long drive today,
a slanted tree grows in its own direction
from the flooded Illinois plain:
welcome.
there is too much water
among so many late bloomers;
I nurture a hope that the tree
under which I write
may yet enter into spring.
April 20, 2025 at 4:37 AM
high water
on a long drive today,
a slanted tree grows in its own direction
from the flooded Illinois plain:
welcome.
there is too much water
among so many late bloomers;
I nurture a hope that the tree
under which I write
may yet enter into spring.
on a long drive today,
a slanted tree grows in its own direction
from the flooded Illinois plain:
welcome.
there is too much water
among so many late bloomers;
I nurture a hope that the tree
under which I write
may yet enter into spring.
it had speckled wings
and landed
on her open five-year-old hand.
it was safe with her.
I only watched, as I often do,
the tiny miracle,
remembering the time
we observed the metamorphosis
of painted ladies
and how she created a picture
of butterflies to be seen
by the first to emerge,
and landed
on her open five-year-old hand.
it was safe with her.
I only watched, as I often do,
the tiny miracle,
remembering the time
we observed the metamorphosis
of painted ladies
and how she created a picture
of butterflies to be seen
by the first to emerge,
January 27, 2025 at 3:33 PM
it had speckled wings
and landed
on her open five-year-old hand.
it was safe with her.
I only watched, as I often do,
the tiny miracle,
remembering the time
we observed the metamorphosis
of painted ladies
and how she created a picture
of butterflies to be seen
by the first to emerge,
and landed
on her open five-year-old hand.
it was safe with her.
I only watched, as I often do,
the tiny miracle,
remembering the time
we observed the metamorphosis
of painted ladies
and how she created a picture
of butterflies to be seen
by the first to emerge,
someone asked
if others listen to songs over and over
just to stay in one space for a moment.
yes.
I have always loved carousels —
they take you around to begin again,
to look again
to see what you didn’t see
the first or the second time.
you can love them even if you have been crushed by one, as
if others listen to songs over and over
just to stay in one space for a moment.
yes.
I have always loved carousels —
they take you around to begin again,
to look again
to see what you didn’t see
the first or the second time.
you can love them even if you have been crushed by one, as
January 27, 2025 at 3:07 PM
someone asked
if others listen to songs over and over
just to stay in one space for a moment.
yes.
I have always loved carousels —
they take you around to begin again,
to look again
to see what you didn’t see
the first or the second time.
you can love them even if you have been crushed by one, as
if others listen to songs over and over
just to stay in one space for a moment.
yes.
I have always loved carousels —
they take you around to begin again,
to look again
to see what you didn’t see
the first or the second time.
you can love them even if you have been crushed by one, as
she watched
pretend angels dance
& pressed glitter to her face,
wanting only to be close —
eight being just one age
to unfold in the sun, gold-pressed.
gray now threads
the eye of the needle fascination
& she passes through it,
contemplating touch —
pretend angels dance
& pressed glitter to her face,
wanting only to be close —
eight being just one age
to unfold in the sun, gold-pressed.
gray now threads
the eye of the needle fascination
& she passes through it,
contemplating touch —
November 30, 2024 at 3:14 PM
she watched
pretend angels dance
& pressed glitter to her face,
wanting only to be close —
eight being just one age
to unfold in the sun, gold-pressed.
gray now threads
the eye of the needle fascination
& she passes through it,
contemplating touch —
pretend angels dance
& pressed glitter to her face,
wanting only to be close —
eight being just one age
to unfold in the sun, gold-pressed.
gray now threads
the eye of the needle fascination
& she passes through it,
contemplating touch —
The mortal man, all careful, wise, and troubled,
The eternal child in the nursery doth keep.
To-morrow on to-day the man heaps doubled;
The child laughs, hopeful, even in his sleep.
The man rebukes the child for foolish trust;
The child replies, “Thy care is for poor dust;
The eternal child in the nursery doth keep.
To-morrow on to-day the man heaps doubled;
The child laughs, hopeful, even in his sleep.
The man rebukes the child for foolish trust;
The child replies, “Thy care is for poor dust;
November 27, 2024 at 3:50 PM
The mortal man, all careful, wise, and troubled,
The eternal child in the nursery doth keep.
To-morrow on to-day the man heaps doubled;
The child laughs, hopeful, even in his sleep.
The man rebukes the child for foolish trust;
The child replies, “Thy care is for poor dust;
The eternal child in the nursery doth keep.
To-morrow on to-day the man heaps doubled;
The child laughs, hopeful, even in his sleep.
The man rebukes the child for foolish trust;
The child replies, “Thy care is for poor dust;
the train brakes quietly this time
and I start over once again.
my littlest love sings a version
of “Another Hundred People”
although she’s never heard the song;
I think about how I want to offer her
more to look at than botox billboards,
God help me.
some say “teach what you know” —
and I start over once again.
my littlest love sings a version
of “Another Hundred People”
although she’s never heard the song;
I think about how I want to offer her
more to look at than botox billboards,
God help me.
some say “teach what you know” —
November 16, 2024 at 10:59 PM
the train brakes quietly this time
and I start over once again.
my littlest love sings a version
of “Another Hundred People”
although she’s never heard the song;
I think about how I want to offer her
more to look at than botox billboards,
God help me.
some say “teach what you know” —
and I start over once again.
my littlest love sings a version
of “Another Hundred People”
although she’s never heard the song;
I think about how I want to offer her
more to look at than botox billboards,
God help me.
some say “teach what you know” —