i often think
of
the many
moments
that
make
up
my day
and wonder
exactly how
many of those
moments
are
required
to
make
up
my
life?



p is for pumpkin that sat on the sill
and waited for halloween to come
until......
the knife came out, the carving began
the pumpkin jumped up
and
away
it
ran



when
memories of
people and their
lives
can no longer be
contained under
one single rooftop,
they float up
into the sky
and make
rainbows.


do you know what i mean?
she asked me....
and i said i did,
but of course...
how could i ever really know especially when she wasn't sure herself
and
there were
still so many
deceptions yet
to
be
embraced.



i always carry a rolling pin around
with me,
just because
i never
know
when i
might be
in need
of
an emergency
apple
pie.



is it harder
to
leave?
or
to be
the
one
left
behind?

there is a time to leave.
there is a time to be left.

i'm just having difficulty
understanding which it is
that i am doing
at
this
time.







the other day i was thinking about my relationship
with numbers......

the number of kisses
my husband has given me on my neck

the number of hugs
my daughter has wrapped me in

or

the number of glorious sunsets
my eyes have taken in

the number of hours
my ears have absorbed such wonderful music
that it's sent me to another world

the number of times
a photograph or an idea has come together in that
glorious aha moment

i take those numbers for granted.
in fact,
i don't even know what
those numbers are....
i never take the time
to honor them.

and yet,

in 50 days,
i will turn 50.

and i have let
that number
so
negatively
define
me...
twist
me......
chain
me.

i think
i'm going to try to
talk numbers
into
doing some
therapy
with
me
so we can
have a
better
relationship.



you never
know
when the moment will
b e.

when you
just happen
to catch a glimpse
of
s o m e t h i n g.

a casual glance tossed a particular way,
that gets caught
and becomes forever ingrained
in
your
h e a r t.

something you'll carry with you forever.
those moments that
become part of your historical
t r e a s u r e s.



if my hair fell
out of
my
head,
i'd plant flowers
there instead
and
water them
with ideas
so they
would
grow in
all
different
colors.



lately,
i've been having a lot
of
fights
with vulnerability
and
vulnerability wins
every time.

i really hate that.



when i was
little,
i was told to stay on
the
path.
"watch for the markers
and
stay on the path
or
you might get lost"
i was
told.

so i would
dutifully look
for the markers
because i surely
didn't want
to
get lost.

later,
i realized
that the markers i was looking
for,
weren't the markers for the path
i had been
on.

i had been
following completely
different
markers
all
along.

and
it
wasn't
bad
at
all.