As family members separate to find their independence,  or to find work in a mobile society,  the premises from which these souls wander still requires a caretaker.  We found in our domesticated animals an adaptability to our need for companionship  when these members left.   These sweet creatures become part of the family.  For those…

In reading today’s post of Maria Wulf’s   fullmoonfiberart.com  she talked of dreams and how one does not question the dream nor truly its significance.  Or one’s presence in it.  It brought to mind my own questions during my life’s journey at about the same age as Maria and a poem I have not thought…

Mother God, Father God. . . We sit side by side, shoulders hunched toward each other, stealing glances like children do looking for approval. Mother God, Father God, love me they say. I am good.  I try. And they grow up and away looking at reflections of their faces, so much like us. I steal…

I Break Bread I break bread with these my brothers deep into who we are and what we have been. . . . Not much, I hear, but the faith is dear, held tight to the heart. For free it never was. But come.  It is time now, again to break bread. It will be…

At The Gates They stood as Amazons, great and glorious in their largess, in their girth. . . With moss flowing horizontally from their branches, thick as trees themselves. These Spanish Oaks stood their stance, worshiping at the shores of the waters whipped to a froth. . . Their centuries told of standing at the…

Is It The Water? Is it the water, he asked, this youngest son of mine as he watched me mindlessly wording wow, oh wow, oh wow. . . . or is it the trees, he continued, as I looked through the veil that had separated me from a lifetime of what I knew. The oaks…

  She Says, He Says. . . . She says, speak to me! He says, I have nothing to say. . . . She says, you can say I love you. . . . He says, I look out for you, don’t I, and help others every chance I can? And she says, and everyone…

It is a truth. . . . Sometimes we cannot improve upon a something that supports a truth and this is one of those times for me.  As we approach Valentine’s Day, to all who are bereft and do not or have not known love, what is missed is something you have known somewhere at…

Across The Table I remember the times we sat and held hands across the table, unable to say goodbye. Not necessary we thought for in the morrow we meet again. But soon the day arrived when we did not meet, expecting always a more convenient time to come. There were no other times for when…

We Are The Music You say, pull the shade! Or the neighbors will see! I say, What will they see? Us dancing? I rest my head upon your shoulder and am happy in the embrace. Us dancing in the kitchen too small to move much, but close in heart. I say, keep dancing. You say,…