Some days, this is the face of the day. To pause. To breathe. To see not one face but all the faces hidden in what would seem to be a solid fortress. Not a fortress……
With my hand touching her trunk, as always, with childlike wonder I gazed adoringly upward into her maze of branches and divided trunk. How often I have stood and sat here longing to climb and be cradled in her arms. And the…..
Driving, I gave thanks to the nature’s invitation. As the mountains zipped by my car window I tried to imagine and feel what the mountains felt. How many roots are held within their rooted rising? Without thinking I heard myself whisper, “Come…..
Two windows reflecting the rising sun. The one, in the wholeness of a single pane, gifts the fullness of the sun’s power and light. The other, made of glass bricks has fragmented the same image. They stood side by side. The morning whisper offered…..
Sculpted. Painted. Dancing. Velvet. Water. The face I see at a point in time. I see so many faces. So many faces see mine. Which one am I seeing? Which one do they see? How many other faces are there in that one…..
Even concrete and glass were stilled by the setting sun. But then, they too are elements of the earth once alive and nourished by the sun. Just a red light pausing my journey home. A whisper to look to my…..
Some days hold you with tenderness of a lioness carrying her cubs in her jaws of strength.
There comes a moment of reckoning when you sit with others who dare to put their hands on the door…..
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