A poem inspired by mystical things…
‘Write Your Dragon’
First pink—
the hot kind,
then blue—
the royal kind,
next red—
the rouge kind.
‘The Growing Up Years’
They were the years I learned,
our hearts often travel of
their own volition,
with no permission slips
and little regard for the field trips
they take with our lives…
{A poetic dash of whimsy, magic and holiday nostalgia for the inner child in all.}
December breezes in with streams of snowy winds; candlelight and comfort rituals become the hymns which lend and send their sighs for winter’s darkest night.
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I have a new book out today, Transformations of the Sun: 122 passages on finding new life after loss, and as I was doing the final proofing of it over the weekend it struck me how artistic of a book it is.
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