March: Day Twenty-five

I awaken to the sound of the birds

rustling in the bushes beneath 

my bedroom window, their 

chirps soft as a whisper.

Wake up, little ones, 

I imagine they are saying,

and in that moment, I include

myself in their family.

Sometimes - often - my first thoughts

upon awakening are fear for 

what the day might bring.

The sweet sounds of these little birds, 

well-hidden in the bush but

still vulnerable to all out there

that might do them harm, 

awakening nevertheless with

such sweet chatter, softens my fear, 

and I arise to greet the day with them. 

March: Day Eighteen

 

A garden is not just an arrangement of

flowers, it is a peek into the creative soul

of the gardener, their hopes and dreams

and what they loved.

March: Day Twelve

Dark Clouds over Sedona

September 2017

Often, I do not think that I am

up to what is being asked of me

So all I can do is keep going and 

do my best and sometimes

it's not very good but it's

all that I can do.

And surprisingly often, it

somehow turns out to be enough.