Author: admin

In Med School the professor lectured the heart is a pump pure and simple. Yet, it ranks as the toughest of all organs, beating nonstop, through all kinds of stress for upwards of one hundred years. Yet, when weakened, an...

Spinning through life Stumbling by The clouds are all blurry They dizzy my mind Faster they run Swirling around Life’s a great pool of colours Turning muddied and brown The pictures all blur And I fall to the ground Lying there...

Flowers in the backyard struggle to hold up their heads like they have barely survived The sky has no color behind our house the woods are dark and dense Leaves on the towering trees wave in a slow rhythm like the sway of the...

A tiny coleus sprout Was a seed carried by the wind? Green and purple leaves reach for the sun inhale drops of rain nourished without a plan without soil or scheduled watering. Be inspired by life’s surprises follow the path you...

I slide into a safe space on my mat take a comfortable seat and stretch prepare to block out distractions taking me from the present moment With a background of music she calls for intentions offers wise words like drops of...

I wish my body didn’t hurt so much, so I could walk forever around the Blue Hill Fair. Yesterday, those clouds were suspicious and dark. I had to remind myself we were not in Kansas, there would be no tornado−except for a ride...

I slept in this morning the way you sleep in every single morning. I am worried my house sale will collapse. You must be worried about missing your flight 25 years ago. Which blue shirt will you be wearing today? Yes, my...

Did I read enough tales to you about characters that use their cunning to overcome adversity? Hansel anticipating his father, then Gretel outfoxing the witch? Odysseus finding his way home? Charlotte weaving her web to save...

Sangha 10/2024 I used to think of you as the flame, and me as the moth. A moth, though not as magnificent, is stronger than the butterfly. No gossamer wings or tiny antennae, nocturnal moths are awake when it’s dark. I flew...

The osprey watches nested atop her wooden pole. Kaleidoscope eye tumbles toads passenger train, forest vole in the jeweled fragments of her gaze. Such busy, still days. Come dusk she flicks a perfectly feathered wing. Sky,...