Last night the moon came down and kissed me awake. She whispered about you. She said she’s had you in her glow for quite some time. She told me to be patient. She mentioned I had to prove I was worthy for you in the same way I would be worthy to befriend an ocean… Continue reading Mabon
Tag: garden
Canine
This morning, while watching the sun peek over the roof of the house across the street, I saw a little brown butterfly float so gently she looked like a leaf falling from the tree. That is how I feel getting to know you. Like I am both falling and floating. Moments of ease punctured by… Continue reading Canine
crickets
I hear crickets. The even hum of them, the inhale and exhale of their sound. I hear them beyond the air conditioner in the hall, and my fingers on the keys, and the traffic from 83. I hear them as I fall asleep at night, I hear them when the evening sets and the sun… Continue reading crickets
Now and then
April 2018 This is what you do, my pet, when the airplane of your love has gone up in smoke: You land it (maybe) in the best way that you can. You let it rest on the grounds of some open field in the middle of nowhere where all is unrecognizable, including the tremor in… Continue reading Now and then
Crape Myrtle
I tried to take a picture, But I couldn’t catch the light. And no matter how I aimed the lens, The photo wouldn’t come out right. The picture didn’t see the detail, That made me pause and think, And smile at how the petals looked like chiffon- Delicate and pink. The honey light slicing through… Continue reading Crape Myrtle
Mind Flutterings
Being an actor is complicated. Mostly because I complicate it with a desire to have success immediately and exactly in the way I believe it should come. Control is an issue, and trying to control a creatively expressive career is not wise. Trying to control your creative life fully is like trying to catch and… Continue reading Mind Flutterings
From the back porch:
Summer sounds like this: The cicadas calling back and forth from one group of trees to the other. The fountain recycling water, round and round every afternoon. The wind shushing in the trees way up high and then moving south towards the ground, tickling the tiny bunny as they nibble buttercups. Crickets warming up their… Continue reading From the back porch:
On things pertaining to writers block…
Much of this will not be remembered and that is a blessing. The singularity of this summer has a feeling with no name yet. Only looking backwards will I see what it truly was called, I think. And then I will name it. I do not know if all of our blessings need to be… Continue reading On things pertaining to writers block…
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