Vinyl & Blue

Chewing on consciousness

by a roaring fire,

with a hearth of hope to catch

stray embers of light,

& yearning for old soul

inner peace,

Wrapping my inner child

in the softest blankets-

Blankets and pillows woven of

fluffy hope, joy, and faith,

as blue





in the dying light of yesterday,

and the crackling vinyl plays

the wholeness of holiday carols-

to ring in the season of healing.

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Vellichor – A Poem

My hand slowly passes over

a thousand dimly lit titles

Calloused fingers lingering

& caressing

Soft and worn leather

and their engravings

like a long lost lover

Touching a million journeys

yet to begin learning

Pulling a chapter from a legend

Battle scars from adventures

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Like Fireflies & Rain #Poetry

I can still see you resting

in the water beside me.

Your contagious laughter

rippled in the water,

That nose of yours crinkled

& your eyes twinkled,

Like the fireflies that danced about-

as dusk tucked in around us-

Like a cool breeze and a

light quilt on a Summer night-

Until the skies overflowed-

One —

single —

drop —

at a time

— they fell around us,

Splashed about like a soft melody-

Until that one roll of thunder warned-

Rumbled & tumbled through the air-

And we raced for shelter from the storm.

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Summer Rain #Poetry

I remember the moment that the generator stopped humming. Like a catch in Summer’s hot breath,

I could hear the storm crawling across the skies to pour life into the parched Earth. Scratching its way to my world while leaving scars that lit up the night.

I played with my tangled curls that tumbled around my pillow and thought about how connected everything is.

Each raindrop I heard fall was a bit like a love letter calling me home. So I unlocked the wooden window if only to catch a single drop in my hands.

But the skies had other plans and whistled as wind blew the window wide open and without a care or worry-

My essence caught them all.

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Art Is #Poetry

The night sky woke up all the stars-

like our own corner of my

grandfather’s American flag,

As the vast cornfield glowed softly

just quietly content on growin’ as

the air stuck to our faces

like a wet dishrag we call July.

We sat on the farmer’s porch

with my tattered jeans dangling

off the crumbling wooden planks for steps

and you asked me what art was. //

I chewed my lower lip as

You drew a heart in the dirt crumbs

left behind from our day’s adventure

from your dusty old boots.

The corners of my mouth moved

I turned to look into your eyes

and held your hand over my heartbeat

Just for a moment and then-

Tugged your hand into mine

to help you stand & slow dance with me,

While I pressed my heartbeat to yours

and shuffled my feet awkwardly.

I threw my head back and laughed

As you looked me so curiously

So I leaned in a bit closer and

brushed your hair the color of wet sand

out of your twinkling eyes

and crinkled my nose

and whispered in your ear,

“You, me and the chickens, that’s what-

It’s the sound of your old truck on the path,

the swish of the paintbrush on the fence,

and the moment a chick opens

her eyes for the very first time-

Art is everything.

Art is everywhere,

Art… is this” // as I tugged you closer for a kiss.

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The Farmhouse Letters

Like crumpled love letters written in the constellations and glittering scrolls of old promises kept across a winter velvet sky,

This old farmhouse holds secrets buried deep at the heart of its very soul just begging to be torn open again and so I-

Read each story from a rocking chair with peeling paint where stories are told on an old creaking porch,

The cowboy rides in shadows but makes his words heard, carrying fireflies in his pockets and the moon as his torch,

Down dirt paths that are well worn by decades of hooves and worn-in leather boots and led by wise old hands,

He rides on endlessly until dawn, lighting the way for those who believe in the magic of an old fashioned romance.

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The Sea Story #Poetry

Tiny waves kissed her baby toes

every morning

As the woman dipped her

into calm turquoise waters.

The tiny girl grew older &

as did her love for the sea,

As if her toes had taken root

in the tides that will

always bring her home.

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Dear World, During this week of uncertainty and darkness…look for sunbeams. #covid19

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TEDx – My Purpose is Bigger Than My Fear

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Always Will Be

Down that long white corridor. Slivers of silver moonlight streamed in to the very end which is where it all began and I slowly passed endless glass rooms filled with scenes like bad dreams.

These glass house memories- like fragments of black and white snapshots of time. I stood before a younger me, I pressed my face, my ribs, my hands to the glass that’s slowly fogging, as she pressed hers back to mine.

My heart was beating wildly, calling out to her (to me), As I slid against the glass to my knees as she cried for her daddy, and I frantically tried to save her, I could feel your hand on my shoulder and sudden peace.

I saw your entire being glowing before me in the moonlight, “That was a long night”, you said with a sigh as you gently lifted me so that I was standing.

“You were there?”, I asked you with surprise. I watched as you rolled back your sleeves to expose your wrists. And I remembered. “Of course I was”, you told me, as your eyes filled with tears, “I always will be.”

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