Sometimes Sorrow Skips Across the Horizon, a poem

The words withered away today long, heartfelt pauses stroked against my thoughts it was a combination, of not wanting to feel and feeling too much and I drunk in the darkness of obsolescence. My eyes could not conjure fairy tales from cotton candy clouds instead, my heart was lost in the recesses of graying clouds…

Seeking Understanding, a poem

  I wonder if they are looking can they see me here . . . alone? do they see my scars hidden deep or do they only see this cage of skin and bones for many cannot see many cannot see the tears the pain of others’ lives they look away they look right past…

The Heartbroken Crawl Toward Justice, a poem

  Sometimes, I feel the brokenhearted crawl toward justice footsteps on wet pavement as the guttural sound of loss rumbles in the streets. Another one gunned down Another one on the ground while witnesses steal themselves behind shuttered walls hidden from view. I did not see… I did not see nothing is the current wail…

Grasshoppers, Butterflies, and Flowers, Oh My! (Post #6)

I’m going to revisit a trip we made up to the gardens near the mountains.  I am actually hoping to go there this week or next as well.  I seriously can’t wait.  Most of the schoolwork is done and after today (hopefully) my two littlest ones will be completely finished!   Ahhh, now that is…

Our Heritage: The Earth We Share with Ancestral Pueblo Indians

Mesa Verde was home to the Ancestral Pueblo Indians for over 700 years.  There, they raised their children, built communities, and left their footprint before moving on to other places.  No one know exactly why they left.  While they were here, they were hunter/gatherers, as well as subsistence farmers – growing crops like corn, beans, and…

I lost myself, a poem

  I lost myself on the shores of California sank my feet beneath her sands and contemplated the rippling image of moonlight across each crest of waves. I sung along with the undying heartbeat of their rolling passage to foreign shores. I lost myself near the shores of Johnson creek where the walking bridge is…

My heart’s longing is not enough… a poem

  I spoke words beneath the soft shadows of moonlight picked up my pen and stroked the lazy passage of stars across the sky. It was in the darkness that I wept, not from fear, but for my heart’s longing were it enough to grace the pages of a book, I would write them down…

Having Fun with Spam

  Today as I sit here on my computer, I am surprised to find out that a donation has been made in my name.  This act of kindness just touches my heart.  It’s not every day I get such amazing messages in my spam folder.  Most days, it is for coupons I don’t really want…

Photography & A Story: Martin the Squirrel’s Debut

  “Oh, she’s at it again!” Martin exclaims.  I have seen her often, peeking out between the blinds or out of an open window.  She is always there, pointing her camera in my direction.  I’m not exactly sure why she is so interested in me.  Maybe she believes I am someone famous.  She is sadly mistaken.  I’m just…

Choosing Not to Drown

  It was too much.  The weight of everything.  Promising to crush what little hope that dwelled within her heart.  And although she promised herself to never give up, sometimes it seemed a sweet release.  She was strong, she knew – but sometimes, yes sometimes, her heart was weak.  It became too much.  A burden…

Foreclosure, a poem

  Their trash sits in the driveway, treasured books piled up high nestled between a king size mattress, small tables, pots and pans, and the snow blower that he once used to plow everyone’s sidewalk after every single snow. There is an eeriness to it and a strong feeling of loss for what was once…

Photography: Celebrating the Silent Passengers in My Own Backyard #2

Again, some photos from my own backyard.  There is never a dull moment (except perhaps in winter when we get less animal visitors).  The birds seem to go off and return like clockwork in spring.  Some do stay, but it’s just not the same as a backyard enveloped in birdsong every morning and afternoon.  I…