When I wake, I must rise.
Quickly, urgently, quietly –
rubbing my eyes
and shaking the sleep out of my brain.
Sometimes in winter, at 4:30 am –
when the world is still and dark and frozen;
no ray of sunlight has broken through the deep quiet;
I rise, quietly lighting candles and
flicking on lamps. Read more…
Sometimes I think that if I wake up to one more face lined with grief and agony, that I’ll lose hope…that if hardness and meanness is all that’s left of the human soul, I will fall on my knees and beg to be taken from the inhumanity of this world. Read more…
You tease me.
Each time I glance up
You have changed,
gliding across the deep blue sky…
in your wake,
the heavens.
So mercurial – you’re close,
then far away, Read more…
Don’t call me a princess. Treat me like your Queen.
I have my own horse. I don’t want to ride on the back of yours.
Give me a cowboy hat instead of a tiara and work alongside me in the sun as it shades my face. Read more…
You see your chubby thighs; I see beautiful eyes.
You see a slow runner; I see strength at the barbell.
You see a mom who’s impatient in the morning; I see a fun-loving flexible mom in the afternoon.
You see last place on the bike; I see unmatched determination.
Monkey mind. Circus brain. Unsettled. It’s that feeling I get when there are so many competing tasks and ideas happening in my head that I become paralyzed…unable to think at all. Read more…