Remember beloved soul…
in the moments of weighted heart,
you are swathed in the down
of Angels wings

And when you rise…
you will glide as an eagle,
cresting the sunrise
of a harvest moon

And when you look up…
you will see your raidiance,
dance across the majesty
of an opalescent sky

And when the wind billows…
as the trees begin to dance,
you will hear the sacred aria
of Loves lullaby.

Listen my child;
for therein resides
a melody of peace.

In Kind…


All the while they journey
polishing scars into gold,
with the Light of the hands
that hold them

And of this sojourn
within this florid vessel,
garnish thy soul
in the soils of Being

With reverence of cause
through Love Divine,
may stillness be thy dance
and Love thy soulful opus

With peace and in kind
of Spirit and with grace,
know thyself and honor thus
the fruit of All seasons

For the cradle of Truth
rests on the bough of balance;
where Love is
was and ever shall Be.

Before honor is humility.
~ Proverbs 15:33

Waking Dream…



She suggested that I write or to have a long bath… Two simple things that when time allows I indulge in: solace. Perhaps it’s the infrequency of those delicious moments. Though, I would Love nothing more than to do just that, the effort required feels unattainable tonight. The last time I attempted to write when she wasn’t home for the night, surfaced, as though I was pining child… or did it? Or was it simply, that I have been inexperienced with such deep intimacy, such Love, that I was justly expressing what it feels like to miss and to be missed; to Love and to be Loved. That it’s alright to feel; to truly be. That it’s a natural human response of Love and connection that is real and true; profoundly requited beyond earthly comprehension?  This is new for me. I have no prior experience from which to pull, tangibly. All I do know for certain… is that while I felt immense joy that she would be taking moments for herself and reconnecting with Loved ones who have had a tremendous hand in the beautiful creation of who she is, I missed her… And while tonight feels like déjà vu, tonight I danced. Tonight I missed. Tonight I Loved. Yes, tonight I Lived…

Dancing in Time…

Sharing the offerings that escape my heart; that embed themselves within the ethers of my breath… Soulscapes that dance with passerbys who stop momentarily to catch a glimpse of their reflection… Yes, like Christmas windows on a busy downtown street, where All is magically quiet and the gentle of a lullaby caresses the soul; in offering of momentary reprieve. A slow dance from the hustle and bustle of Life lived in fast forward. Just as children press their noses against those shiny windows of wonder, so too, do we. The only difference, we press our hearts. Solace is found in many windows. The artistry of such display lies not in it’s decoration, song, lyrics or words, but rather in the feltsense; a knowing of home. We are each of us Always home when sharing without censor the naked of our humanness…

My ‘story’ is not unlike any other… I’ve only just begun to release my grasp on the illusions that once offered false comfort.