the butterfly

jar_butterflyThe tears do tumble down my face,
the one who doesn’t cry.
You wonder why I’ve lost my grace
who watch the poet die.

There is a place ‘yond time and space,
it’s here alone I fly.
And yet it’s here you’d me encase,
my wings apart you’d pry.

And so it is when you embrace
this poet from the sky,
be not surprised, in keeping pace,
if all I do is sigh. Continue reading

little birdie

54_SPARROWS ON WINDOWLittle birdie out my window,
Chirping, calling, “Come and play!”
Can’t you see I want to join you—
Work, I must, this day away!

But when I’m through, I promise you:
Nothing here could make me stay.
I will find you through and through,
We will play the day away!

Image: Pinterest


I wasn’t listening. Not because I didn’t want to. I couldn’t hear.


If I could just . . . Why can’t I ever . . . Damn you, Jess. I was frustrated. Another day gone and not enough accomplished. What was the matter with me?

I hated myself.

Three miles out and I couldn’t take it anymore. My headphones were too much. I wanted to throw them on the ground.

Instead, I yanked them off, and I was greeted by a sound. Continue reading