June 25, 2016


Solitude of night
cloaks shroud living time of light
Standing in stillness

Shouting words, a thousand days held to my head like a loaded gun - what cost?
No minutes left and suddenly you’re into my fabric of time
Tears wash the hours into loss

Black is the color
Midnight black shield of armor
Vanishes to night

June 20, 2016

For you ~ My Flower

Walking along the edge of the stream leads to a special place of wild flowers, the most beautiful, the most fragrant flowering luster in lavender colors.

To behold a flower so special, belongs to anyone willing to hold them in their hands and take in the atmosphere of love.

Flowers and love feel like the perfect essence; the fragrance always emitting a specialness only love can behold.

The naked eye sees a stream flowing at a random pace, and a flower blooming in a haphazard way, but the eyes of love see the calm, the tranquil, the ever nurturing hand of God sheltering lovingly from the torrential rains, the cold snows, the winds and shadows of the clouds.

My flower was meant for you, someone who can see what love can do.

June 16, 2016

The Last Dance

For everyone...listen, learn, and most of all love.

My heart breaks in a million pieces at this theft; souls ripped away, the night of happiness stilled, no breath is left.
     A night of joy, of music and friendships all around; a night of dance and laughter, a beautiful sound. The onenote, a single note stopped us still; the sound of gunfire, the music stopped, the riotous terror, innocence, swallowing a bitter pill.
     My voice, his voice, her voice, the voices rang out in cries, shouts, the sobs of terror throughout. Seconds, minutes, hours pass, where is the help to come, to take us away; the help to stop the flow of blood, the horror, the cries? A terrifying darkness covers these eyes.
     Break away these guns from the hands of sickness, take them to their graveyards and destroy the iron grip they have on the insane. Break the bullets once, twice, a zillion times; destroy the ammunition which destroys lives.
     Listen to the voices of reason, listen to the voices of the living and now the dead. Don't stand still, don’t waste another minute, time runs out; don’t ignore the past, the present or the future; our lives and the lives of our children are precious, more precious than the hardened blue steel that represents selfishness, and ignorance to the truths of trust, caring, kindness and love.

May 29, 2016

Kim Michele Richardson's memoir, "The Unbreakable Child"

In reading Kim Michele Richardson's memoir, "The Unbreakable Child".

There are times when a story touches me at one, two, or three in the morning, darkness takes on a silence that echoes white noise in my ears, full of thoughts of the people, the characters and their stories, they make me write what I hear...  

Life, Love, and Forgiveness

Life is but a testing ground, a bleached quadrant of earth where souls gather and spew a heritage of worth and pain  
Love intervenes where hate dominates

Life lingers, life goes on, life, the hearth where fire mounts the hills before gravity can pull the warmth away from the soul  

Love carries the flame to the highest peak, and forgiveness takes the burden of truth and radiates

…..To Chapter #3 and already I’m touched beyond measure. My own memories are surfacing. I want to say I can't imagine Kim's struggles in telling her harrowing story, but I can, minutely, I can.

I sat in that deposition, I knew the cold sweat that permeates, the nausea...I felt the frustration, no words...the anger...the indignation...the disorientation, not knowing the way home...   

I see Kimmi, a little girl...A defenseless child. I was also that defenseless child….As I read on last night, my heart broke in a thousand pieces, a thousand years ago...rendering me to tears. I wept for that child of three, of four, of five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten….when will it come to an end?

I heard that voice, don’t cry...if you do, I’ll give you something to cry about...I heard those words, I felt the pain.  I stopped crying.  As an adult, I had to be taught, to learn all over again how to cry.  Six years in psychotherapy...no pills.  Depression was my nightmare, the monster that eats away at your soul.

The nun that beat Kim, Sister Charlie, I asked...how can anyone call themselves by name a representative of God? Or even the human race! This woman was so filled with hate...she was a psychological mess who belonged in an asylum of another nature! How in the world Kim survived in one piece…

...reading further...how in the world Kim survived her abuse as a child at the hands of these Nuns and a rape by a Priest, physically or psychologically, I don't know.  

On the front of the book it reads, “A story about forgiving the unforgivable.”  

True stories are sometimes hard to write, I’ve tried and failed.  The courage it took Kim to write her story, and to relive each moment over and over in her mind and in front of strangers, takes a courage I don’t posses.

I praise her revelations of what transpired in this Catholic orphanage, one not even a scene from a horror story could depict.  I praise Kim for her loving and kind heart.  Even though I don’t know her on a personal level, I hear her voice, the inner child, the adult with the wisdom to carry on, to laugh, to change the world, to love, and most of all to have the courage to forgive.  I love her for who she is.

May 1, 2016

Homeward Bound

She slid over the gravel path, homeward bound, determined to hold her head high.  She made mistakes, but this time she feared the worse.

Fear. Her skin trembled, goosebumps covered her arms, she rubbed the fine downy hair smooth.  How could she be frightened of the night, it was the same in the light of day, wasn’t it?

She knew what was waiting for her, but a silly notion held her in disbelief, that nothing bad would happen from past mistakes.

The cold wind tore through the trees, a whistling, a vibration, reminiscent of trains coursing over tracks in the distance.

She pictured herself riding that train, escaping a true fate of certain death, yet certain death waited at the end of the line.  Always the end of the line, always waiting.

Homeward bound - no matter her fear, she calmed, she held her head high, mistakes catching the wind, hurtling them back from which they came.  

March 22, 2016

First Light

Mountains climbed, and rivers to swim
where am I going
in a light that’s made dim?
facing torrents and cold winter’s frost
In snow storms and raging currents
is a battle won or lost
Sleeps a songbird, sleeps through the night
wings stretch and soar, in the grace of first light
Sings a songbird, songs turn to play
Don’t be frightened, I’ll lift you away

March 17, 2016

My Haiku For You - Shadow’s gift

Across the landscape
Shadows casting friends around
Time without mourning

Nurturing your own
Sealed in all family’s gift
Calls memory’s joy

Together love speaks
Mountains reflect life’s beauty
Shadows blend as one

March 12, 2016

A Kiss At Dawn

Where do we see the beauty in sadness, as there is beauty in love?  
What do we see to hold us together with the passion to find understanding?

We kiss now, today, when there is no tomorrow, only here, now, to hold and to grasp the sorrow of our goodbyes, not in one breath, not in one kiss, only in one touch - to be awakened by the touch of dawn’s fine mist. 

Hold me, touch me now, kiss away the sorrow, for I can’t speak to say look at me, because it’s you, first dawn, I seek.

March 5, 2016


Open arms across the rivers, empty souls into streams
water flows from every pore
angels fly to spread their wings
a welcome home, to safety nets
in war torn fields, a warm embrace
brighter days with prayers of solace
ending nights with sad goodbyes
but nothing more says this disgrace
than faces turned, averting eyes
Lost crossing deep oceans, lost crossing wide seas
lost to home and country
lost to you and to me 


Sharing Hearts ~ My Haiku For You

stand upon mountains
share love’s value without doubt
make your hearts grow deep

Touch, hold tight the moon
kiss as one, rejoice the night
wipe away anger

February 28, 2016

My Haiku for you ~ Morning’s Blush

Photograph by Kathleen Sara Shattuck

morning warms the buds
open wide your tenderness
fragrance blends and heals

rose petals as silk
cup the rain and drink its milk
softly blushing pink

February 8, 2016

Our Love ~ My Haiku for you

Photograph by Kathleen Sara Shattuck

ebb, flow, to and fro
gifts from the sea offers love
currents take your heart

moon directs the pulse
love washes over the sand
meant for you and me

offers the lonely
sunshine breaking clouds of grey
love follows the tide


Hear the wind hum across the sun baked sand
seas plunge into caves along great cliffs
torn sculptures left within
castles left behind

Hands sore from clay dense with sharp grains of sand
again reach down and lift earth to your breast
throw the clay until it’s round!
throw the clay down!

Wedge it, shape it, never a thought but to make it!
give into the emotion, to feel again its depth
submissive to this love for the earth
love touches, sculptures pure

January 21, 2016

Can You Reach Me

Photograph by Edith Meier

The morning sun filtered light through the morning mist. The little bird sat upon the top of the post, waiting, waiting, waiting.
His cry was heard echoing down and off the hills and across the waters...

Can you reach me from there, sang the little bird, the little bird to the morning mist.  Can you reach me here, sang the little bird, the little bird surrounded by mist
You can reach from there, you can reach me here…. sang the little bird
You can reach me from anywhere
Anywhere in the air

January 17, 2016

My Haiku for You~Confrontation

rough day is today 
decisions in metaphor
drop from the heavens

tired of combating

let the rain come down and freeze
incredibly white

snow falls on closed eyes
warm, melting between lashes
wipe away defeat

December 15, 2015

Nature Smiles

Photograph by Angelique Manchanda-Peres 

The triangular joints meet, clasp and hug within the barrenness of landscapes, beckoning nearer what is left of color; the lost leaves, the dead and the dying where nature’s goldens and reds were once full of green.

Colors change over time, the naked limbs grow stronger in these cold months when humans go inside to stave off the chill of day’s sun, boarding up against winter's snow; the tree’s roots dig deeper into the life giving soil, the richness feeds and gives nourishment, strengthening limbs in time to grow and spread, sprouting the buds to bloom in Spring anew.  

We sadden at the sight of the lonely, disparaging limbs, where once we gloried in the splendor it threw our way, beautifying, electrifying our vision, while knowing this current view would come back before our eyes ...we hold onto the memories of what once was, and knowing will come again to brighten our summer months, to shade us from heat of the sun, to blanket us as sleep takes hold.  

As the last leaf flies about and suddenly drops in a breeze, a carpet warms the life giving feet of these limbs for another new season to come; Fall captures us with imagination through memories, and we smile, only a temporary sad smile, to give thanks for the nourishment, passing on this future to nature’s beautiful smile.    

December 9, 2015

Heaven on Earth

Kill the wild beasts, the children of the land; kill the birds, the fish, and with fervor the love for one another; kill the fortitude to carry forward life, the living that beats of a promised heart. Kill what is done to stop the goodness, replacing it with grief; kill the hope and truth and the love that was once there to move the living into heavenly places on earth; heavenly places, the kingdoms of wild forest, wild animals, wild is the nature that once was, until the angels in heaven fall from high, toppling the statues that are insatiably worshiped.

December 5, 2015

Stolen Love

I love no other, no other do I love.  
You came into my life, my days, my nights
No other do I love
Love held my hand
My heart held your love
Love gave me solace, love was the answer
hours became nights, days, months, years
I opened my heart, I heard my voice
love sold your soul in pieces
love filled with shame
love couldn’t answer
I exhaled your name


November 28, 2015

December's Crystal

Winter months ring-in an ending, and a new beginning soon to arrive; sometimes cold, sometimes cruel, sometimes skies streaked with clouds, or clear, with a sun that is worshiped by many, succumbing to warmth a sun drenched heat brings sighs.

Snowmen are built, then start to melt, racing against time towards streams, filling the banks with a clear liquid of blue, where seen is a crystal lying dormant for an eternity, uncovered by torrents of overflowing rivers, etched by rocks beaten into an awakening.

A crystal like no other...covered in gold flecks, shining so bright the eyes cannot stand the strength it emanates; close your eyes and imagine the world covered in warm golden hues, covered with hope that shines through the coldness of hearts; warmth washing away the hardness of hatred...

A crystal held in your hand; imagine-believe-hope for tidal waves of love rippling in and between; over and across; above and below; a heaven erasing the hell on earth; blooming like a flower that has never seen the sun, forever more; through eternity.  Believe.

November 26, 2015

A Time Filled With Memories

Thanksgiving, a day filled with memories.  I think about the past, the present, and the future.  There are people I miss, people who were once part of my life, people I am thankful for in my present, for being part of these memories;  the good times, the in-between times, the growing pain times where a helping hand was outstretched to keep me from falling.  

I think about the family and friends who helped me stand, helped me to walk, and helped me to run.  I think about the shadows, the darkness, but most of all the light that comes into these memories.  The times I played, the times I worked, the times that raced me into and through the hard jobs with people who kept me going toward tomorrow.

Memories of Thanksgivings come to mind; memories of family and friends gathered around the table to eat, and to laugh and be grateful; those times were the best of times, and sometimes the worst….now fading as I age, once here, now going.

The sun comes up each morning, and waves the passing of time into night’s darkness; moisture settles across the field of sunflowers, and the last light reflects the dew as it lingers on petals, feeding the thirst of the tiny lady bug.  In these moments I watch; in these moments I wait; in times like these I give thanks for these memories.