Death has been on my mind lately All over the news Spilling all over my life An old friend visiting me An old enemy that always returns Death toys with me, Tugs at me Tempts me Terrifies me Standing waiting Like a waiter, or a…

There is something about being alone When you stand on your own People think you are strong For you it seems very wrong They don’t know about your choice You keep searching your own voice A tree stands tall who bear no fruits Knows very…

This is how it always starts. A late bloomer never seems to be on time for anything. Imagine the horror, thinking that you have ten minutes to spare when you’re already an hour behind. You had assumed that 9 in the morning is 9 in…

Too quiet here… Did I say that? Can’t be. Someone is bound to appear not quietly either. Hey mom, can you help me mom, I need… mom, can we go… School starts when? Oh yeah, today is Saturday…  

IV Velvet and satin ribbon; figures of porcelain. Counting your blessings in an echo of dreams.   At last. Lowered lashes over milky white coat. Leaning closer- breathlessly close. So close you can feel her warmth. Morning dew comes with a shimmery veil of tiny…

The first drop is always the most courageous. Leaping from the hands of God, a place of perfection, Falling faster and faster, with the speed of no direction. Lack of malice, holding no contention, sweetly, softly, landing peacefully kissing my forehead, caressing away my tension….

The morning breaks, A new day ensues, I stir uneasily.   What is so different? Not crowing, nor shrill ringing, But plaintive cries, Of Cat’s wailing.   On the white canvas I hack my way, Letters blearily swirl around. Not Hercules, more Atlas.   I…

Sun’s rays on water Rolling in. She lowers herself Into the water. Day is done And night begins. Once Sun, Now Moon. Light remains.

This morning soothes me A bouquet of fresh words A fountain of calm energy I could fly from here Or softly float Greeting the day knowing Time and source are one. I so easily caught between Right and left Up and down Early and late…

The bridge from my heart to yours, seems bruised and worn, painted with our tears, engraved with our years. Under a passageway, where I lie covered, unseen by the world, emerging from rushing rivers, unveiling ourselves to the world. Our bones, mere ashes, our blood,…