Tag Archives: peace
This evening I pause to send a chuckle to my mama and daddy. They always made a big deal of my birthday. So, first, a bow to them. A touch to my heart and a sweet tear to say ‘happy birthday mama and daddy, you are…..
There is nothing innately wrong with anger. Anger, as an emotion, is as valid as love and joy. Anger can stimulate positive change. Anger can be beautiful. Ahhh, the whisper had to agree as I presented my hobbit logic for the anger boiling inside me. The whisper’s pause…..
Without warning or understanding, the events in Oregon for some reason grabbed and unnerved my heart immediately upon waking this morning. I do not understand what is happening. I do not understand the response. If any other group dared to attempt such actions their…..
May the sun’s warmth chill your bones with winter’s vigor. May the blizzard’s cold stir your blood with passion’s heat. May the darkness of night light your way home. May the day’s cares be gathered like wrapping paper. May the heart’s winter…..
Today I faced a nightmare. Today I bear hugged another as they lashed out in pain. Tonight I sit resolved in the beauty of storms.
Some hugs are different. Not so much a greeting or a sign of affection. They are more like the hug of a drowning person holding on to a life preserver. Afterwards, I stood alone outside looking for my breath. Looking up the sky gifted its…..
I have seen rivers run down mountains. I have seen mountains that have withstood thousands of years carved like butter from the river’s trails. The sight leaves me breathless. To see a chiseled mountain face carved with the heart’s rivers of tears…..
Not much larger than my fingers, they lay scattered upon the wooded area behind my building. As I sat and held the small gifts, I thought of the morning reading I highlighted in my Kindle. No matter what the world may suggest or…..
A week that can leave one beleaguered. Nature extends an invitation, even if only for a short time. One friend invites. Another friend welcomes. The vibration and sound of me walking on gravel nor the scurrying feet of a four legged…..
The yearning can so deeply call out I don’t think I can plumb its depths. My kneeling eyes rest upon the sky where buzzards upon the thermals Are painting the sky. The wind made visible in their artistry. The day’s…..
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