I am no painter, I don’t claim to be. The solace I find In blowing branches And flittering leaves Draws me in, Spits me out, and Brings me treedom.
The quiet stirs. The sad seeps in. The anger is not far behind. Now, I catch myself. I shuffle through my pocket of happy, Hoping, to quickly find a thought. Clear a new path to wander. The cycle continues, Until my path resembles the branches of a tree. Thankful for the choices it's many directions … Continue reading Branches – January 12, 2018
I feel most at home, alone amongst the trees. My mind wonders to thinking about life, and all that it is. Today I wonder where my mom felt most at home. Would she like to join me in silence listening to the leaves chatter in the wind. Would she want me to keep the precious … Continue reading Free – February 6, 2019