I have two hands Of my very own Both are strong Able to lift and squeeze And both are weak Too soft to do all That they need. Yet they … Continue reading My Two Hands
When we were children My mother had a garden wild as we Full of bachelor’s buttons heron’s bill, vining twists of morning glory field madder and daisies Sunflowers, snapdragons, poppies, … Continue reading My Mother’s Weeds
The flames have been fanned, our system of hate is in place, Decades of fears – of the muslim, the immigrant, the refugee’s face, The fear’s locked in, right where … Continue reading White Terrorism
A hate-filled house – Anger dripping from its beams – Is a decrepit house Rotting at the seams. That selfish wrath we spew All the “I haves, mine, and this is only for me” All … Continue reading A House Built on Hate
“We need to fix her!” He exclaimed bemusedly “But I don’t know how She’s so lost. So far beyond reach.” At a loss for words I simply thought Who are … Continue reading Broken Things
There are days that seem magical Not because everything was great But because all the simple things Fell right into place And the laughter And the harmony For those silly … Continue reading A Rainbow’s Song
“It’s not about money. It is about compassion,” said a local city council member at a meeting earlier this week. He spoke with such poise and kindness, I deeply felt the broader truth behind his statement on a local measure. Over and over since, I’ve come back to his words: It is about compassion. Each […]
I meant to share this ages ago, and found it rummaging in my “Drafts” folder due to general sleeplessness. Please check it out, and please check out Kimya Dawson’s “At the Seams”.
And as my sister said – compassion.