It’s when you push through
though pain makes it hard to move.
Tomorrow you’ll cry.
#142
It’s when you push through
though pain makes it hard to move.
Tomorrow you’ll cry.
#142
I think someone left
the weather on last night and
the chinook got loose.
#141
Do you do what’s right,
or just what is right for you?
There’s a difference.
#135
A bed of roses
by any other name would
still have hidden thorns
#129
When the sun rises
aspen skins blush with delight,
basking in the dawn.
#96
When the leaves are gone
twined arms and tangled fingers
sieve the sunrise light
into stained glass shards
that rise, fade, and seep into
a morning promise.
#93
With a steady hand
one can build a house of cards
from a deck of dreams.
But beware the breeze
of your own breath as you sigh
at its perfection
and the well placed dreams
slither down into a pile
of new potential.
#87
Downhill ruts that trap
Our wheels, sliding life into
well worn mud puddles.
We don’t have to stay
in the mud any longer
than necessary.
Habits are the ruts
But we are the ones driving.
It’s time to chain up.
#86
Pink clouds on blue sky,
sunrise gently traces a
lingering caress.
#78
Start with a blank slate
and there’s nothing to build on.
It’s better to choose.
Choose sun warmed berries,
the songs of running water,
and moonlight shadows,
The warmth of the sun,
the way aspen leaves flutter,
and wild violets.
Fill your slate and find
there’s always room for beauty,
always room for joy.
#70