for a while ~


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4:51 am

how long
and for a while
it seems I might remember
these paths –
though so familiar
are disguised
as something more
a moment rare –
a time I thought we knew
the way was bright
and we
becoming one
journeyed in the sunlight
across on boards
of clay
felt the shift of worlds
beneath our feet
closed our eyes
leaning into love
recalling once again
the feel
of home

. . .

per chance ~


6:30 AM

was once
you loved a younger me
eyes where softly glowed
the picture perfect image
of another destiny
a soul consumed
with where the road began
it never was
but for a time
one night i dreamed
i knew the way by heart
ageless constellations
signs and swords
by echoes
of my laughter
down the hall
photographs and poetry
per chance
my rhyme to meet
in stories
yet unwritten
heroes all

. . .

the weight of worry ~


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An associate at work shared this with me. Some things deserve to be passed along.


A psychologist walked around a room while teaching stress management to an audience. As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the “half empty or half full” question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired: “How heavy is this glass of water?”

Answers called out ranged from 8 oz. to 20 oz.

She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, it’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.”

She continued, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.”

Remember to put the glass down from time to time.

. . .

from here
the heart is heavy
with weight
most surely long
though not for
love’s enduring
either make
a grace unknown
and guarding
of truths we cannot lose
a step or two
from once
we were

. . .

every please ~


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there are none
the same as I
lovers knitted close
met with ancient
in the dark
when want
for one more daylight
to confess
fingers weave
in sacred reverie
prayer infused
with promises
holding you this way
once more
let me answer
every please
when life is surely gone
carry there my name
on silent lips
let the door be opened
wherein my heart
is kept
free the night
to sail beyond
the pines

. . .

between ~


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in the half light
of five o’clock
shadows bend and sway
while ego sleeps
in borrowed sheets
a world away
streaming light
of conscious flight
though none can hear
time – a frail illusion
of being here

as curtains fallen
o’er a dream
deny our need –
the weight of place
truth is clothed
in wonder –
moments left
of grace

a chirp
before the coffee spills
and thought becomes a sigh
fingers trace
a life replaced
with getting by

the taste
of names unspoken –
is solace to the soul
as five fifteen
is laid between
the living
and letting go

. . .

dreamed awake by some ~


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but for sleep
which proffers not
the evidence of tears
morning comes
the worried soul to save
angels fall
another even tide
as blue beneath
a robin’s wing
is brushed into the light
beyond the reach
of shadows
dreamed awake by some
while I will let you
– stay this memory
of times
I loved you longer
than the night

. . .

what i know ~


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8:34 PM

From time to time, I have moments (though fleeting) when I doubt the divine rightness of the universe – of God.abrams creek

But then, almost immediately comes the assurance of what I know to be true – that the things worth the most can neither be bought or sold, that the world is filled with fools, and that the abundance of one never seems to lessen the abundance of the other.

Yesterday, after visiting with daddy, I took the long way home, past cemeteries grown over with weeds, and roads nearly impassable. I stopped near a creek where once I fished, once I swam by moonlight.

I rushed home, knowing I had work to catch up on. But I was unable to connect remotely; so, I logged a ticket, made some notes, and let it go.

This morning, after coffee on the porch, I tried anew. Another attempt after church proved the same. No luck, and in a bit, I set off to visit daddy again.

I was blessed that I was the only one, and enjoyed what few understand – quiet without the need for anything more; the simple blessing of being together. Volumes spoken without the need for word.

I sat on the edge of the bed, but when dad complained I was hurting his leg, I moved a chair closer, rearranged his covers and settled in. Within minutes, he asked if I would sit on the bed, offering to move over so that I would have room.

I suggested what I thought was a better idea.

‘How about I move you over and I lay down with you? I could use a nap, and I can’t think of a sweeter place to take one.’

He smiled. ‘Would you like that, daddy?’


For the next three hours, we slept, me curled against his side with my arm across him, his fingers wrapped around mine. Occasionally, a nurse would stop in, but no one dared disturb us.
Tomorrow may bring clients upset that their work didn’t get done, but the worth of today far outweighs any pay they might have offered. Today, I realized (once again) that I am rich beyond words, and I’m grateful to the technology gods who insisted I spend the last two days as I should, as I have. ❤

Heaven is always closer than we know.

. . .

merging ~


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in the still
of September
as promises poised
at the far northern edge
of the lawn
fireflies flash
a fleeting surrender
as merging
they dream
into one perfect light
where all
just beginning
the creation of soul
love feels the same
as I knew
that it would
the first time only
of all I have known
began with forever –
a moment of grace
warmed by the notion
we’ve been here
holding hands
as always
remembered us

. . .


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