poetry
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Rambling on about Navigating the endless abyss of waiting on the tech support industry and the experience of being on hold… Hold on please… What is a good callback number if we lose connection… Let me see what I can do and find out for you… HOLD PLEASE… We have all heard it before if…
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Reading and Writing, and Arithmetic, Taught to the tune of a Hickory Stick… I was a child that really loved school, as a kid, a teen, and an adult. In my childhood, I adored spelling, words amazed me and I competed in spelling bees and won once in grammar school. That played into a love…
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When Creative Expression Collides with Turmoil…. There are days, sometimes weeks, sometimes months, when the act of writing feels impossible. The pen hovers, the keyboard waits, but the words refuse to gather. Instead, they scatter like autumn leaves in the wind, lost to the overwhelming chaos outside. For writers and creatives, this paralysis is not…
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A Reflection on Finding Peace in Quiet Moments I have never been one for sitting still—never the sort to let the world slow as I linger in a moment of silence. Restless by inclination, I am a piddler by nature, forever fluttering from task to task, my thoughts ricocheting like sunlight off water. My hands…
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On the Mysterious Tapestry of the Subconscious The world of dreams is a twilight land, stitched together by silken threads of memory, longing, and strange invention. Sometimes my dreams erupt with dazzling clarity—vivid, visceral, their images lingering in the mind’s eye like the echo of a bell, refusing to be forgotten with the breaking dawn.…
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The dawn declares itself this morning with a pink glow that receded into a warm filtering sunlight that made the heavy dew glistens on the leaves as it inched up into the sky… The light growing and glowing over land that has learned to endure the languor of August. The sun, ever faithful, lifts itself…
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Life, old age, and the ongoing evolution of time and change. The day unfurls in gentle shades of gray, the sky a vast expanse of pewter clouds pressed low and unhurried. Even the morning light seems tentative, diffused through veils of mist and the silent whisper of drizzle on the windowpane. It is a day…
Dirt Road Therapy 