Each day is a gift:
a moment to pause
and notice
the many gifts all around us.
The web of interconnection,
The magic of energy
that surrounds us.
The quiet of silence,
A wing and a prayer
of wishes and glad tidings.
A shift in perspective
creates peace in our hearts
to love, to feel joy.
That belonging and wholeness
we all crave deep inside
the jewel of our chest.
The spark of life force
This is a gift to behold,
to marvel and wonder.
there is no limit to
the many gifts that surround us
envelope us in their light.
A warm heart and opened arms
We take flight in this safety
hearts sing and
Love soars and
propels us to
what’s next in our
journey we call life
unknown
and unfolding
possibility
with joy
An Artist’s Life
An artist’s life is not just
a pie in the sky scheme
It’s a lifestyle
To catch the word
to speak the sound
to alchemize thought into visual medium
The canvas is mine
my tool of choice, a pen
armed with these two tools, the world opens up wide
new discoveries, personas, and story
brought to life
I am one of the trusted scribes
A persistent life of art is a good one
quiet, calm or filled with beauty
the words scrawl across the page
I am an artist,
a scribe with her pen
I make meaning of life
Life has more meaning
I feel grounded and connected
and I get to share my gift with you.
All is held
All is held here
a buried treasure inside
Nature’s patterns tell the story
The answer lies within
each leaf, branch and twig
strong yet bending to the forces outside
a rip, a tear, a break
Everything has its limit
the trick is to go to the edge
before it cracks
to have the strength and know when
to back off and let be
Landscapes
I.
Landscapes and borders blend
pitfalls, unknown, lie ahead
with stable footing I step forward
to peer over the edge
eternity and reality converge
one point just out of focus
trance-like, translucent
I breathe in this space
Place out of time
in its own rhythm and rhyme
We all have these seasons
There doesn’t need a reason
Just allow it to unfold
The blending will mend
what needs tending.
trusting the process
I look over the horizon.
dreams become reality
II.
deep tones
light and shadow
swim in the sea before me
culminating a crescendo
of sound and fury
a powerful force indeed
III.
Blend and meld
We are one
Where I end and you begin
is just a figment of the imagination
Words are Spells
Words are spells
silence is complacency
Words can uplift and inspire
a promise for progress
We can be the change we seek in the world
with positive, cooperative speech
It is not toxic positivity or ignoring reality
it is creating a constructive discourse
to get from here to there
without remorse or regret
Today we stand at the threshold
between what was and what will be
my words can shape a future
to be proud of, where my children
and grandchildren will thrive
The choice is ultimately mine.
Silence is not golden.
Silence is complacency.
We stay in the dark with silence
Words are that beacon of light
of hope, of remembrance, of what could be
The world is filled with beauty
and opportunity
and I will be silenced no more
My words will not divide but defy
the status quo to stay small and quiet
It is an inner rebellion that ripples out
Remember, words are spells
Gratitude is more than an attitude
Gratitude is more than an attitude
it’s an outlook, a lifestyle choice
it’s a way of being and seeing
and soon more blessings arrive
the world has been waiting
for this recognition
the gift is ours
the time is now
I gather my wildest dreams
words, images, a key phrase
catches my eye and I smile
I sit at the page
or on the meditation cushion
and I follow the breadcrumb trail
The path is not known
The beginning starts with a spark
of inspiration, of intention and creativity
There is no limitation here
just my wildest dreams stretching out to the horizon
Like a colorful, wild meadow
unidentified, undefined
a full expression of what it means to be free
Graves
Do the graves vibrate deep in the earth
when a church bell rings?
Are they untouched,
the final sleep at last?
Do they tremble and quake just a little?
Unbothered by the rumble and undertones
The tombs spread out like a picnic blanket
A quilt of patchwork of names and dates
Important perhaps
Everlasting
Beyond one human life
a remembrance for loved ones
Do they linger and visit here;
or is it a forgotten, sacred land
that outlived its purpose
or its loved ones’ memory?
Why keep a milestone etched
and mark up the land
who once was and never will be?
The purpose outlasted us all
Time is cruel and nonlinear
How can that be?
The river streams and overflows no more
and the dying are laid to rest
We hold their memory
whether we go to a sacred place or not
What is sacred is personal anyway
I like to stand among the stones of lives
forgotten and long moved on
Like a reunion of lives maybe lost
but a legacy of sorts still lives on
The light in the dark
The darkest weeks ascend toward us
The circles of wind-swept dead leaves
approach and scatter as I walk
I tread lightly and look to the sky
The shimmering light of morning sun
dazzled and greeted me
My curious heart reached out
and leaped to meet the current
of light and warmth above
It is a welcome reprieve
The dazzling sunsets will tuck me in
to a play of color and a gift
from the painter in the sky
whose hues and shades and strokes of
pinks, oranges and purple
stir me to a relaxed lullaby
of warm tea, a blanket and a book
We all need to rest and gather
during these darkest weeks
It is a welcome reprieve
Childhood
Childhood is a fleeting state
where joy, and permission to
pretend, and be anyone we choose
becomes our whole world
The real takes a back seat to the imaginary
And this is a gift bestowed to the human race
The world is our oyster and our playground
We try on new personas like a new hat
and we can imagine grandiose lives
and change course on a whim
We suspend reality and just become
the superhero, the villain,
the dancer, the performer
Magic is real and all around us
Pure love and joy can reside there;
sadness and angry outbursts
feel just as powerful.
We are consumed and carefree
To be a child in this world
is a gift to behold
Healing Insights 