Warrior Child

i carry her with me

this warrior child

seeker

gypsy

girl

we are one

i'm not so different from that child

still a warrior

wild of spirit

filled with wonder

feeding my soul 

 forest

creek

field

least used paths

  being still

watching

listening

seeking

always seeking...

Dust and Words With No Meaning…..

Someone spoke to me last night,

told me the truth. Just a few words,

but I recognized it.

I knew I should make myself get up,

write it down, but it was late,

and I was exhausted from working

all day in the garden, moving rocks.

Now, I remember only the flavor —

not like food, sweet or sharp.

More like a fine powder, like dust.

And I wasn’t elated or frightened,

but simply rapt, aware.

That’s how it is sometimes —

God comes to your window,

all bright light and black wings,

and you’re just too tired to open it.

(Dust by Dorianne Laux)

glimpses and whisperings... 

fragments…

a collage of words

with no meaning.

next time i'll open

the window….

Lift Your Eyes To The Stars

children need someone who will love and comfort

them…be there for them…a safe place to fall.

growing up without that in your childhood creates

a builder of walls…carefully constructed around the

heart so the hurt is kept at bay. add in an artist's

soul…a gypsy child…traveler…wanderer…the

one who never fit in…and the wall inches higher.

journaling has become my therapist of choice…

a place to exorcise all the ghosts from my past.

brick by brick the wall is tumbling down…

brick by brick the heart emerges to the

whispered words…

"lift your eyes to the stars…child…

and know you are loved"