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Explaining The Reason. . . .
If We Had. . . and Truth be Known. . . . Her grey hair was tied up in a knot with an elastic band with wisps circling her face. Not neat in any way but ends swinging as if the haircut was long overdue but her smile was now and the joy present. Her…
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Even a little bit of difference. . . .
This potholder was made by our friend Sally’s mother. She made many of them and when she left this earth, Sally gave each of us a potholder to take home. And I tell you true, every time I have used this I bring to mind Sally’s mom to wonder if she made great strides in…
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The Work Of Being More Human. . .
On being a more human being. . . When I first decided to make a small table out of a no longer used chopping block, I think the cosmic forces went into cardiac care. I remembered safe practises learned from my brothers and sons, but neglected to secure the work on the table. With…
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Life’s Connectedness is what must endure. . . . .
I wrote to Maria Wulf (fullmoonfiberart.com) for permission to share her post which drew my attention. It is such a deep pleasure for one like me to share the larger picture when our thoughts merge. There is a connection in the soul that has no word coming to mind, describing what happens when an Other…
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Always the Empty Chair. . . Times Such as These. . .
It is late. And I am an old woman. I sit here and cannot see the keys of the keyboard because I weep. I have delayed coming and writing this again which seems to be a signature poem of mine and it is not an honor I wish to claim. In differing times I took…
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Let the children tell us. . .
Do I have more minutes to finish? There was no time for answers because the little one with a dash was out of sight. In a few minutes he was back and announced, I finish. Having learned to wait while private things were finished, I waited again while he proceeded to his room. I followed…