Today, I write with a story from darkness to light, being defined to re-defining, and uncertain fear to enlightenment. I acknowledge that I'm not always strong through my journey with grief; that the laughter and comedy, which is my usual medicine, aren't always a cure. I hope with anyone's journey through grief you know that… Continue reading Ways to Find Light in Grief
Tag: inspire
a referendum: why we can’t lose superman
Please read why now is not the time to lose Superman.
In Every Gold, Bright Orange, and Russet Leaf: a Reflection of Autumn in Corrie’s Poems
I felt Corrie in every gold, bright orange, and russet leaf. Six minus one is five, and at sixteen, we seldom realize destinies are nothing more than beautiful orange and yellow leaves cleaving to branches in late October before they fall in a river bank. Sweet sixteen, like fairy tales with happy endings, are inventions of commercials and ads to buy disco balls and dresses.
Orange, Gold and Mahogany: a Corrie Poem
The oak leaves change from green to orange, gold and mahogany, and the pines remain evergreen. On such drives, when you allow, the sun steals you away to places where people say, "shall" and "thine" and in a glade ...
A Reflection of my Life as a Writer, Author, and Poet, Part I
Just because I was identified as a child with learning disabilities and possibly autistic rather than academically gifted, it failed to mean that my intelligence and gifts would never show.
Novel Excerpt Finalist
"She’d place vases of flowers at the spots on the table where Lera’s sisters, mostly older and out of the house, had sat."
I Wanted: A Poem for my Son
There are man things I wanted, but the storms came to pass.
Gratitude Part I: The Difference in Gratitude v. Thanks
I think of quickly forgotten, or thanks, as the goldfish in someone's aquarium. "Oh, they have a goldfish." Yet, every time my family goes to a seafood restaurant, and spots the "Nemo Fish" in the aquarium, it is forever remembered.
Just One More Day
I held your hand after our daughter died ...
Of Lighthouses and Mermaids, a Corrie Poem
Storms wash away paint on the lighthouse, and there's no repair.