Beauty surrounds us. It’s a found nest, tossed from the trunk of an old oak. It’s innocence and a lack of sophistication. It’s crocus shoots breaking through frosted hardpan or a child’s scribbled note. It’s a falling star and the crush of rose. It’s kisses and rain, the words of a poet.

It’s simple and magnificent as most true things are.

The succulent, dressed in a paper bag. The discarded nest, a home for moss covered bulbs. Titanium snow and Magenta blossoms. It’s birdsong at dawn and the scribbled note you framed. It’s the hive of memories you keep.

~I See Flowers And Smile

Silence

Sit in silence. Listen as a leaf rustles to the ground. Hear the Goldfinch trill from the sycamore. Feel, as a branch snaps deep within the heart of the forest. Breathe in rhythm with the tides. Again and again and again. This is how you heal.

~Little Miracles

There is a hush within the edges of time. If one listens, one can feel it.

It is early dawn and I am easy, not required to be anything people think I should be. There are no demands placed upon my time.  Within this pause, I imagine the gift of another day, open to whatever magic it may bring.

Silence is my church. It is where I do my deepest work.  As the stars lean in to listen, I spill my holiest thoughts. Morning shines like a beacon of hope.

I worship the margins of time. There is room to rest as the simplest of moments  begin and turn each day. It is where I find clarity.

 

A paragraph from a scene titled, Do Right. The setting is a  fictional locale – Ardua Pier- where things happen

Truth lies in a dream.

 

The dull blast of a horn signaled a ship entering port. He listened as waves lapped against the pylons. The high-pitched sound of a woman’s laughter rang from the neighbouring sugar factory.  From a warehouse loft, somewhere high above the hillside, a violin’s music serenaded the stars.

Life is ever-changing, he thought, like the sea: calm and smooth, violent and rough. He yearned for a moment between struggle and triumph, a respite.

The hum of a car’s finely tuned engine interrupted his thoughts. He shivered and turned. Shielding his eyes from the glare of headlights, he watched as Rummy’s Cadillac inched closer to the bridge on the pier.

It was over. The memory of tail lights lingered in his mind. She’s taunting me.

Roy lit a smoke and stared across the water.

Rain fell like tears and rolled over the pavement. The lonesome moan of a tug echoed in the distance. He felt his pulse pump like a bass line. As his forehead touched the rail, he closed his eyes in prayer.

How strange to bow down, he thought, a man who has only set foot in a church, once.

She’ll  return.

~ Everything and Nothing

 

I opened the door

You slipped in

The cleanse of a flash summer storm

In an over sized sweater

Fresh laundry off the line

The cut grass smell in air

A memory of a street name I barely remember

And You: the boy I loved.