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My silence

19 Aug

A Journey Called Life ...

My silence is not my weakness,
It’s a pause, sometimes too long
when I listen to better songs on the radio.

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Sign of the Times

8 Aug

Early morning sky reveals the secrets day holds; but like many of us, the sky speaks in riddles.  Its indigo stained humidity, when seen through the lenses of a window shares the appearance of a winter storm.  It isn’t until you open the door that you see for yourself the truth of such illusion.

By 3 o’clock it will be 102 degrees and all possibility for rain, let alone a nor’easter, will disappear in heat’s grasp.  Calm will have descended; creatures will seek shelter from sweltering temperatures peering only briefly at the reality outside their hiding place.

Men will wipe their brows, push back damp hats, lean against the forgiveness of shade-bearing trees.

Women will fan red faces with the hems of work aprons as they sip yet another cool glass of iced tea.  Children on summer vacation will lean even more intently into the electronic escapes and connections they share.  Babies will chafe, cry, fitfully sleep.

The spring promise of green grasses and fruit trees bent toward the earth in bounty has been broken.  Cats, pregnant only a few months ago have grown scrawny.  Their fur is dusty and lack-luster as they bury themselves in dark corners of burnt leaves.  True to her word, summer burns.

The sky is a clock ticking subtle beats in homage to the cycles of time.  Seasons are mere minutes; tomorrow it will be winter.  Next week, spring.

The early morning sky is a predictor of gifts and challenges. It is a reminder to remember all of the things easily forgotten. Live fully; open the door.  See for yourself the truth hiding inside illusion.

morning sky

Under my Skin

13 Jul

Under my Skin.

Recipe, homemade

21 Apr

Beautiful sentiment expressed poetically… Thanks Archita!

A Journey Called Life ...


Drink a cup of Tea. Better if you can add cardamoms
and a bit of love. Go out in sunlight. Hug. Hug harder.
There’s always going to be shadow in a sunny world.
Rest sometimes. And while you rest, find a pretty
bird and click a photo. Share it with your grandmother
later. Call her often. Talk. Tell her you look pretty today.

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beautiful roller coaster

13 Jan

In two and one half hours I enter the chamber where

masters and prophets of healing will

crack open the cage of my chest,

mend the broken egg inside, as I, traveler in

this magnificent sphere, wait beside glorious rails leading one

way or another.

Hidden Treasures

24 Dec

My friend nailed it with this beautiful reminder that life/love is a constant stream of oft overlooked small miracles.



While at work yesterday I heard a loud tap, tap, tap. Unsure where it was coming from, but noticing large objects falling from the sky, I glanced up to follow the sound. Lo and behold, I spotted a Pileated Woodpecker high in the tree digging for insects on a chilly winter day.

The next day, as I was sitting quietly, legs crossed and trying for my meditative state–my usual drifting thoughts floated through my cloudy mind. And one that swam by was of hidden treasures in our lives, ones that we may not know are there unless we stop to be quiet, or really take the time to look. Sometimes we know they are there, but might be hidden from sight, or we don’t take the time to appreciate. My mind started meandering through many of these as I sat peacefully and began to create a list. So these are…

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Sadie Forgets Her Inner Voice

20 Nov

Profoundly true…Enjoy.

Jenny Kissed Me

Sadie was forgiving

She was open-minded

In fact Sadie was so accepting

She forgot about

Her own inner compass


Being swayed by

Any wind that came her way

She found herself


The completely wrong direction

Instead of being

“Laid Back Sadie”

Sadie had become

“Sadie With No Back”

So limp

Piled in a corner

Where all she could see

Was one white wall

Signifying her complete and utter


What had begun as

A well-meaning gift

Had become the path

To Sadie’s emptiness

While Sadie had been open

To what others had to say

She had forgotten

That small voice inside herself

That was also a strong guide

Until she faced the wall

In such a strange place–

The place of peace without any grace

Wishing for the warmth

Of what she knew was right

Sadie then remembered

To look toward her own light

For while Sadie liked…

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