In the valley, it is quiet, barren.
All the birds you were feeding
upon the mountain no longer come
for crumbs. Sparseness separates
friend from foe, and when color drains
to the pale of dreamlessness,
shadows fill the empty corners
but, when the air clears,
you can hear the soft whisper
of faithfulness; the tender touch
of one who wants nothing
and in the darkness, you find comfort
in a tender place where only love remains


~~I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 24.

I fell behind due to illness and hospitalization but am determined to finish even if I am behind ūüôā



I used to wait for rain
stand, palms up, pleading
for earth to fall away

so I could bloom;

sat under that weeping willow
many a Sunday, sleeping
under the swish of limbs,
tremble of railroads
echoing at my back-
ears attuned
only to cardinal’s song
to fade the noise
of Monday coming,

It took years of suffering
to open my wings,
to close the umbrella
to feel the son;

to feel the sun.



In Waiting…


      Just below the surface

                       hope is rising

          as dreams whirl

  into funnels, translucent-

   engaging as dove’s coo

in the early morning hours.   


                        Like lily pads,

                      in waiting for pink softness

                        upon weathered pages.

Take these heart strings

    like threads of harp,

       beckoning you



~Day 1 of NaMoPo a poem a day for National Poetry Month!


In Silence

Silence renews the mind
and restores the spirit
creating room
for the most significant conversations
we could hope to have
with the most inspiring soul
we could ever hope to know.

Seek him.




~(I am penning a poem a day  from November 24th through December 25th, 2016 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day #16)


Enter In

Take me
to that secret place
where only those dear to your heart

may enter in;

where love and compassion
fill every vessel
and light,
oh light
leads us
through corridors
without parables;

Use me.

Use every drop of my inspiration,
every ounce of passion
to illuminate the walls
the world builds.

Open gates for me

with flowered gardens
of your love.



~(I am penning a poem a day from November 24th through December 25th, 2016 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day #15)


Love Letter #19: To Friendship

Call on me, my darlings,
not only in morning,
or in midday sun,
but at the break of dawn, high noon,
or be my muse at 2:00 AM,
when my soul weeps words.

Come to me,
not only in laughter and song,
but in mourning
so my hands can lay daffodils in yours,
and smile upon your delicate faces.

Pray with me when there seems no hope;
our fingers interlaced
until the warmth fills two souls,
as one.