Tag: heros

  • Hands

    Hands

    Hands Guiding, shaping holding on, letting go supportive, frail My hands stretch out sometimes to catch, sometimes to wave goodbye, watching the soul take flight into the huge, never ending sky. Veins of my grandmother, who I loved very much I would play with them as a child, fascinated by the way they would wiggle…

  • Phoenix

  • Carpe Diem

  • Grandmother

  • The journey

    The journey

    Pounding head, Racing heart Knowing less Than at the start Each day I fight the fight Wondering if I’ll reach the light Darkness sinks Me down again All I need Is at the end When the journey’s rough The way is clear Soon the shadows Disappear At the end A new beginning If only strength…

  • Young love

    Young love

    So it happened, although earlier, and not the child I expected it to happen with. Recently I was driving the children to school and happened to see a note my middle diva hadn’t put inside her bag. I picked it up, curious, and felt my heart lurch as she expressed her feelings toward a boy,…

  • Project 333 and Me

    Project 333 and Me

    I think I’m going to do this. I’ve been looking at my house the way a mama cat looks at her young over the last two months- ready to pounce and clean the crap out of it, whether they want it or not. Part of this is my latest fascination with minimalism. An old idea…

  • Acceptance

    Acceptance

    Driving to work this morning I was struck by the simple beauty of the sunrise. I never seem able to capture the beauty, either in pictures or in words and for that I feel simultaneously sad and and all odds by what nature can provide. For some reason, that inability cause me to think about…

  • Ode to the road

    Ode to the road

    Sometimes I think I live in my car from point a to point B no matter how far. The sound of the road repetitive and dull strangely is my time relax in its lull. No matter the distance I always enjoy whether by myself, Or with my girls and my boy The road is my…

  • Ode to the road

    Ode to the road

    Sometimes I think I live in my car from point a to point B no matter how far. The sound of the road repetitive and dull strangely is my time relax in its lull. No matter the distance I always enjoy whether by myself, Or with my girls and my boy The road is my…