Stuck between two without a middle, isnt polorized. It doesnt make sense either, but what does. One season enters and another exits, do we question when and how they do so? Being content with ones conditions doesnt mean we are unconditional, in fact we find too many things to condition, and control.

The earth moves to the echo of its own sound, the oceans tide when the moon turns its head, long ways into the sun. Weather patterns are content with each others opposition and we huddle in our homes unprepared to walk out our doors.

A baker bakes a loaf of bread, he watches it rise to the occasion, fired by heat. With pride he admires his creation, only to turn his head and begin again. He never questions the ones that he throws away, he just stars over. How many mistakes are made in a day. How many revelations are sought in conjunction with those mistakes? Do we care, or are we daft to what bird pearches on our shoulders. The whispers are clear and unburdened, but in truth we shrug our shouldlers and walk away from what could keep us safe.

Heaven can move mountains but the mountains heaven moves is invisable to many. Its energy like the wind that blows but we shut our windows in case the dust flies. Heaven is also a state of mind, in which the mind empties out and only refills when needed. Thoughts draw pictures, black and white. Thinking makes them colorful, but sometimes we cant find the crayons and withdraw the lines with an eraser. Lines are beautiful when drawn in random, making pictures can cause us to go blind.

Belief is undetermined, bliss is unconventional. Words are nonsense unless we find value in the letters we have put down on paper. I am an ending to a story only half told, but will continue if their are listeners tomorrow.

Do we really understand or are we deaf to the knowledge we are born with but leave unteathered to discover later in life. Perfect and whole our view is smugged until we remember to get the windex and the cloth and wipe the window and we see the clarity that is right in forn tof us. Let the sun shine down, let it warm your bones, turn to see that you are not the reality but the realism of your hearts desire.



I find myself climbing a ladder, within the many levels of reality.

Seeking recognition, the many layers of the mind searches for approval

It melts into thought and the thought process, it merges,

Merging with motion and emotion, always perfecting.

Acknowledging the growth and sensing abilities with in the self.

Thought merges into the mind becoming whole once more.

No reason nor reasonable doubt.


Fear of Failing

Fear of Failing

The little girl sat in her room, she thought about everything and everything was in her. On the days she wanted to be a ballerina she was. On the days she played soccer she played her best, and the days she saved the world she did that too. She did everything and more because she made up stories that she could. To herself she was brilliant, athletic and limber, but to others she knew she was the girl who just looked out the window.  Today she sat in her room and thought of all those things she pretended to be, but today she wasn’t content. Something aroused in her a sensation of wanting to try but her feet still didn’t move.Nothing mattered because she could be everything in her mind. There was no failure because she never really did any of those things in reality.

The neighborhood buzzed with activity outside, some played hockey in the street, the girls skipped rope to the beat of music, and some road bikes. The window was open and the air fresh as Spring and it called to her to let go and come and play. It would be ok if she did not fear failure, so she thought if I don’t try I can fail.

But she longed to get on her bike, she wanted to play soccer and even to dance, and maybe someday she would, but no today. She walked over to the window and closed it and with that she closed off her mind to those happy noises and tuned into her dreams. Soft and quiet they moved around the room, dancing with her and creating her own reality.

Downstairs her mom called for her to come down. She went.

On the kitchen table was a photo album, one she had never seen before. It was old and tattered not like the ones she had looked at with her parents. Curious but nervous she overcame her desire to run back upstairs and sat down. Her mom loved her but she always wanted her to be more adventurous more willing to take chances , but she couldn’t do it.Failure was not an option.

Sitting down next to her, her mom opened the book and then looked at her daughter and began a story. Great revelations were revealed in that hour, things she had never known before. Each picture showed her a story of courage, acts of daring from a man she knew but seems she never knew of. Her heart opened as the story unfolded. A boy much like herself, who had known nothing more than a wheelchair. A boy who as she, looked out his window day after day, wishing he could be like the other kids he saw play in the yards below. He too had a fear of failure and that failure kept him  in a wheelchair, inhibited by a desire to stand up and walk.

But one day he did, with the help of many doctors and the love of his parents he did.  The hard work he did helped him not only to walk again, but to grow into a young man who did play sports, who walked to school and rode his bike everywhere he went.

She looked up and said to her mom, “but these are pictures of dad”?  The man she called dad had always walked, always worked and was never one to fail at anything, how could this be. The questions were answered one by one, and the father she only knew as a soldier and father was now more than that to her. He was a hero. “He never feared failure” her mom said and if he was here he would tell you that himself.” Sometimes we have to fall down, to get back up, and sometimes we have to fail to find that we are still the best at what we choose to do.” On that note her mom gave her a hug and told her to go finish what she was doing and put the album back on the shelf in a place she could find it any time she wanted.

The little girl felt her thoughts shift, her mind grow and her heart find more than just love. Walking up those stairs she became a soldier, a fighter and she would never think of failure again. In fact she flew up the stairs and got on her shoes, she couldn’t wait to get outside and be her real self and more.

Why do we fear failure. Why do we give up before we try. Fall down and get back up. Try new things and if they don’t fit, try something else. Knowledge is everything and the more we know the more fear and failure do not live in our thoughts or our dictionaries of life.



Death is just a whisper away. A determination of the spirit to go on. 


When Time gives in to a physical deterioration and a life moves on in a remembrance of the living moment The whisper of wings unfolding. 

Life is just a moments grace, a totality of ones own deliverance. Its a play played out. A drama delivered in a great emotion. A story told in all its glory, a belief in the debate of communication.

Heaven is the nothingness  that encompasses the soul, tempered and polished like old silver. Embroidered on a lace hankie, placed in a drawer for safe keeping. Tears engraved within the fabric.

Hell is the remorse. A removal from an emptiness as it fills us up and spits us out. Daunting and taunting forever after.

Death is just a whisper away, as the mask falls and shatters to the floor revealing the face in all its wonder.

Who are we. We become and then we are not. We build ourselves up and then become adults that are crushed by everything we have held onto since children. How do we overcome the constriction the narrowing of our minds to the choices we make.

Lets stop and breathe. Realize the perfection, of our creation. Lets be a channel to happiness, to joy and to possibility. Our perception is clouded. Like the sun behind the clouds. It is still there, always will be, until it shines again on a cloudless day. Sometimes getting lost is being found. We have it in us that built in compass that can navigate the roughest waters and toughest terrain. All we have to do is believe in positivity. See abundance by giving, feel love by showing gratitude. Be kind and compassionate even though we are hurting inside as well, and do not let fear cloud the unknown. I believe everything happens for a reason and the reason is the human kindred spirit



I find myself sitting on the floor of my kitchen trying to get my grandsons new puppy to stop crying. He asked me to come over while his parents are away to give him a hand. He’s a busy boy my grandson. School, work and sports. Why a puppy, because he is so active as in hiking, climbing, running, biking he wanted a companion.

Why not I say. It may deter him from dating for awhile and doing something that would keep him up nights in a different way. Puppies like babies need full time care. They need to bond and know that they are not abandon. Just like us. In fact we can learn a lot by caring for a new born animal. May teach us a lot about compassion and unconditional love.

But back to me, yes Im still sitting, live as I write, trying to calm down an 8 week old puppy who feels he’s been abandon by my grandson. He picked him up from out of town and the puppy took to him like rain to a mud puddle. Its too bad there is


not something like maternity leave for new animals in households, as I say Im here and he has soccer practice. If only, he felt safe around me, but Im a stranger. Maybe mom dogs tell their little ones about stranger danger.

But back again to me. I guess what Im trying to say is Im learning patience. Oh I have patience, for adult kids, for work employees, fro drivers, and now for small little adorable innocent puppies. He has these blue eyes, and this little red nose, auburn hair and a big wagging tail. What do I do, my butt is getting sore from the hardwood floor, my legs ache from sitting still, like in meditation. The more I think about it the more I get it. Thank you little one.

So I get my mac and I think I will look up crying puppies. Well I’m told abandonment issues, pain, missing their mother. If only I could speak puppy tongue. I look into those big as the ocean eyes and they are clarifying, you can see through me eyes.

Im doomed to sit, be still, and feel. Well you know thats not a bad thing now is it.



Who Am I Really?

Who are we really?

Are we pawns in a game directed by one or by many. How do we choose who plays and who doesnt? How does one find individuality when duality plays a more significant part, mainly in the sub conscious. Finally why are we driven to be the lead every time, when its just a game, no one wins or looses, although we sure think so.

We had a tremendous amount of wind and rain last night. In fact I woke up this morning to lawns strewn with logs and lost items the ocean decided to cough up. People scrambled to clean their yards, worried the clutter was just that clutter. But why not sit back and see the beauty of it all, the ocean gave us its magnificence, its turbulence, its glory. It gave us back what we threw in.

We too throw a lot of stuff around. Emotions, decisions based on our will or no ones, upsets of the uncontrolled kind. You name it we have stood by the waters edge and threw in the towel. Now it gives back and we cannot handle it. The creeks too are over flowing, and its beautiful. Our hearts need to over flow, to toss out the unwanted turbulence we have allowed in, to see the beauty we cannot handle deep inside. Its not always our game, but a game in which we have played and will continue to play for a long time. Enjoy it, let others win sometimes, and when that happens listen to the heart as it sings the praise of love and equality.

Heres another poem that I would like to share.


It has been sometime since I have seen. Longer than that, that I have experienced. Much farther yet than I can remember. Have faith you say? Memories come and go in the night just as the sun shines behind blue skies, hiding from the very clouds it protects.

The fact is I have not a cloudless sky in which to see forever. I have not a branch to cover my empty mind or shade me from the thoughts rooted so deeply inside my entangled vine of brain waves. Hence I am blind to most interests. Fog has set in as green vapors in jars of glass tubes  measure me input daily.

I awaken half dead, my feet cannot find the floor to fain balance. No wings to fly from bedroom to kitchen where I can at least find nourishment. Nourishment to ease the dazed transparency of my residency.

Patience may be virtuous but my timing is off by seconds. I am half way there and not there at all within the right moment. Senseless I walk an eternity of doubt, blissful in my cap of dreams, homeless in my own way.

Yet I will by my own will find my place, become a dealer in a poker game, where I can cheat myself and win a jackpot in a one handed showdown. I want justice, having taken away my mentality and given it a name I cannot understand. Memory chopped in half and fed to me in spoonfuls.

Now  I rock away the years or hours. I cannot remember anything, except that I am fully content in what I have, not knowing I have nothing at all, except the smile I wake up to from the mirror in the bathroom. I will see you again tomorrow I say back but the face never returns. I am alone because I have many more, a new one each day. Who comes to see me. who will greet me in my aloofness? Yet the face that gives me everything right now.

Life is a short version of a lengthly play. A drama with indentations of comedy. Never ask for the long way around just enjoy the ride.IMG_0043

Questions or Answers?!

Question or Answer?

Trees topple in the wind if not properly grounded.

Water goes stagnant when rivers do not flow? Directional to its beginning and ending.

The sun cannot shine when clouds collect in large numbers.

Rain cannot prepare the land for abundance if crops are not planted in preparation for drought.

I can add to those sentences the words, do, does, can and a question mark or exclamation point to what  I have written above. We can choose to answer whatever way we choose. But those answers, do they reflect the conditions we place our selves in? In question to explanations.

I want to believe in magic but miracles do not happen until chance becomes choice.


Im on a midnight rendezvous, where I can ride a comet slide down the crescent moon and soon sting shot to the stars.

Lots to think about and please do, write these questions down and quest them as you also find your rendezvous with destiny.