Life Is Too Short

Such dreams,

such words

given during

tenuous times.


We might often ask

why now

what today

creates this mantra.


This need to understand

define our lives

by loss and gifts,

the tragedy outweighs


the reality of our lives,

the human spirit

asked without shame

to handle our today.


I walked outside

stood on melting snow

a sign of the spring

when new life will bloom.


I realize while asked in lament

Remember what life has meant.

Why I Do Write Love Stories

I suppose I have an inherent desire to show a world the value of kindness, of the wonder in knowing beauty is a sweet reality when speaking of love. I would suggest another reason is because I have experienced love in my lifetime. I need to add though that with the beauty and magic also comes the pain, we do endure the full cycle of what love might mean in our lives. For instance, in the manner of love, we may appreciate the horrific nature of loss as passionately as we do that feeling found in the euphoria of falling in love.

Today though I want to speak of tragedy. If you pay attention to the news, you are starkly aware of the mass shooting that occurred in New Zealand on prayer day for the Muslim community. (If you have bias toward certain faith impeding upon your own please stop reading). I have tried, as always with such unbearable realities in our society, wanted to somehow wrap my head around this event. I have my own silent condolences, though will use this page to express how I really do feel.

I think in the matter of loss that people feel today is shocking, ripping the hearts out of so many members of the Muslim community. Last night I saw a group of gentlemen that gather at a local coffee shop in town and as I was packing up my things to leave, I felt compelled to walk over to their table. I expressed my own sadness, and just wanted them to know they were in my heart. There were about six of them and after thanking me, I heard one say words that are simple but impossible to ignore. “We are all human,” he said with a sad smile. He said it again, and his friends all nodded, and I said good night.

I can appreciate loss in my life, but I have never experienced loss because of the color of my skin, or the cultural mores of my society. I say this with confidence and anxiety because it allows me to realize how much further I need to go. I have been in a difficult state of mind in recent months, however all of that pales to a community that is under absolute scrutiny the minute they walk out their door, only for being who they are, what they believe, the piece of cloth they wear upon their head. When I think about the country I live in, the world we exist in together I am truly appalled by how easily we forget that simple reality.

We are all simply human.

A different love story perhaps, but yet it is still love, and today I am grieving. Yesterday, I showed a film, a Ted Talk – Islamophobia, by Suzanne Barakat. It speaks to the photo I will post with this writing. She herself is a human being of Muslim faith who experienced tremendous loss, but please be cognizant of the importance of language. I called her a human being before identifying any other aspect of who she is as a person in our world, in our lives, in our neighborhood.

Please practice love today.

Her story is linked in the caption of the photo – Peace!

Walk in

I know you hear me,

no words,

a frame of mind,

some mystery inclination,

a glance,


perhaps imagining I pulled up next to you,

perhaps not,

maybe its me wanting you

next to me.

I know I want you

next to me,

just walk in,

I am that imagined moment,

trust me,

I am,

always here.

When An Answer Waits Forever

I’m hurting. I have my days. I look forward and purposely deny myself the possibility of reflection. I actively pretend a part of my life does not exist, that reality was an illusion, a s sort of dream, spectacular in its own right but false in its longevity.

I stand alone with some effort to understand, just why, how could I fall so hard that I forgot where it might be that I can stand up again, and feel worthy of my own rationale. I ask myself every day if this one will have any more hope than the last, and I find my answer, the one I choose, or would choose not to decide upon in the twilight of that following night, and then some sleep, very little.

The circus will begin in the next sunrise.

When In Love

When in love
the world does stop
the skies gain a pastel layer
of spectacular hue
accentuate passion
when in love
in heart and soul
when in love
words have less matter
than do emotions
the ache,
the fleeting recall
the reason
the …
the matter of why
what when will
always be now

The First Time … Kissed

I woke from a dream this morning,

the sunlight clearly indicating my haste,

begin another day,

a silent realization, a song.


Somehow Roberta Flack gave me words,

‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,’

seemed to let my dream invite my day.

I wondered how I could know the lyrics


I played it again in a soft shower

a sweet reminder, a place to cry,

letting my tears mix with the heat

trying to wake beyond her dream.


Such soulful melody, watching now,

a sunrise that would remind me again,

the first time,

when I did once kiss her with passion.


I found other medleys, trying to seek some

reckoning, and yet, realized, there is only one.

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face – Roberta Flack (Youtube)

All These Years

Sometime in the midst of wonder

the minutes did stop.

a clock,

a setting of periodic

measure of our lives

did decidedly

become its own solitary

control group.


We were left to observe,

to see one time,

a continuum

for awhile

so serene in its mystique

we forgot a world around our

lives would remain,

waiting, anticipating

seeking some silent



Life contains a truth

a genuine reminder

holds an hour

in quiet hands of hope

those that remedy

the hurt

the confusion

all those years

we remember


hang onto with such an

anxious heart,

hold promise

to keep our soul

dressed in sweet ceremony.


Love is.