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Monthly Archives: March 2016
Snapshot of a morning.
My morning often unfolds in layers. First, coffee by the window. Kids arrive slowly. Breakfast is a cursory obligation. Lunches deftly made and packed. I hear an increase of scurrying. A slip of laughter, a drop of a hairbrush, someone … Continue reading
Posted in Captured Moments
Tagged breakfast, coffee, love of writing, morning, Poem and Prose, routine, sounds of morning, writing
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Moments, leave us jarred.
I’ll paint stars for you on the darkest edges of night and hold a sunflower umbrella on cloudy days. It’ll be alright. Some moments will spiral left, or curve, or not at all. Reasons are unseen and in silence, voices … Continue reading
Posted in Let My Voice Be Heard
Tagged growth, heart, hope, olive branch, peace, Silence, storms, violent world, voices
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Confidence.
Confidence is watering for the soul. It feeds the heart muscles to believe in self. Confidence is gentle and nurturing and resilient and powerful. It is our friend, reminding us we’ve got this situation, experience, life, moment, job, dream, hope … Continue reading
Posted in Captured Moments, Let My Voice Be Heard
Tagged believe in self, confidence, friends, self-confidence, solidarity
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Relationships are bittersweet.
You asked me on a cloudy Tuesday what I saw and felt and wanted. I remember slipping into a full daydream of hope and love and choices. We hiked over mountains and I held stardust on my fingertips and stroked … Continue reading
Finding our holy.
Maybe, it’s the way the sun always sets or how rain showers the soul an octave or two below middle C. Maybe, it’s how the room shifts and the shadows remain. We need to rest when aches can’t breathe and … Continue reading
Posted in Poem and Prose
Tagged aching, end of day, holy, music, quiet, rain, rest, sad, shadows, sleep, voices
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Heart restarted.
I watched forever and hoped you’d see me. I spoke but you didn’t hear. I leaned in and held the thoughts streaming, but each step closer became punctuated glass shards against heart; I needed to protect me from bleeding my … Continue reading
Torn.
I’m afraid, I might be slipping into an exhaustive contemplation. Its darkness, a personal irreparable ache. Or perhaps, my heart has been torn from my sleeve for good.
Lemon Storms
With great effort, I pinned a slice of lemon to heavy gray skies and honey colored birds poured tea over my storms.
Magic of Stardust and Words 