Passion in the Park (poem, photos, & live music)

Toward him my heart turned when I heard his words,       “With your hand in mine,       we can walk through any space and time       and leave behind       this crawl space with its narrow mind       we can’t deny what we’ve been searching for, for all our lives       yes, you and I, with love wings we can fly…” …

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A Detour & A Desert Dance (personal poetic prose)

Consider, how far you’ve come and how, with your face to the sun and with one foot in front of the other, you will get where and what you are intended. A detour on my way to a three-day desert escape… With my car idling, I was a stranger outside looking in. Beyond the (once …

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Life is a Mystery

We have all heard the phrase, “six degrees of separation,” but sometimes God/Divinity sprinkles a little extra sparkle on the moment or situation. Let me explain. Last night I struck up a conversation with a stranger and a few questions into our conversation I discovered she knows my all-time favorite teacher who I have searched …

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Becoming Empty (life essay & live music)

Nature had a way of gently helping me with an emotional situation before I knew I needed help… I watched a mourning dove dart away from the top of our back porch pillar and return countless times over the course of several days. Each time he (that’s right) returned with a twig, string, or other …

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Heart Beats on a City Street

Words, the author’s building blocks, filling half a city block. One after another, bound words, alphabetized and organized, surrounded by gray bricks, one after another, neatly stacked. Words transformed into books and bricks transformed into a building, by artists’ hands, inviting others to step in. I meant to accept the invitation and lose myself in …

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Music, Movement, and a Mosh Pit (video & verse)

A slightly stoopid poem Walking the same road taken when heading to my first show. A sneaky teen, I was, but my choices were void of malicious intent. I was just a loyal follower, drawn to his rhythm, his lyrics, and his British accent. Solitary confinement was my due punishment. I am all grown up …

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Inspired and Perspired

After a year of reaching and smiling through a screen we found each other again. Every Tuesday late afternoon, I walk across a sizzling lot and join other ladies, blood and limbs already hot. Songs fused with a Latin American flare, we step toward weightless joy and away from heavy cares. Passion moves our hips …

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Tumbleweed Spirit

You scratched me, sometimes bringing blood to the surface. Wrapped in play and imagination, I did not notice. You offered see-through walls, never permanent. We lived in the center of a thorny dream, in a dusty land of make-believe. Ruled by the field's young King and Queen, our tumbling fortress did scatter during sleep. The …

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Here’s (not) looking at you kid

A plan hatched, ready to be executed… (might be my fate after this night) Shimmy and pry the window, shut tight. Shhhh, quiet. Push flowerpot aside, then slip through the small crack. Carefully. Don’t break the glass! Slide window and flowerpot back. Feet and spirit ready to run away from confinement and toward fun. I …

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on Wet Concrete, don’t Step

Skin sweating she watched the tumbling and spinning stones, rocks, and cement lifting and crashing thunderous mixing Water spraying she watched the gray sludge become a substance strong enough to bind buildings callous enough to bury history, secrets, seeds, and bones Solid trapping heat and feet too slow to move when the giant mixer began …

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