Some days
it feels like you’re
holding up the wall
Other days
it feels like the wall
holds you
Either way, be glad:
you are upright,
reaching
Some days
it feels like you’re
holding up the wall
Other days
it feels like the wall
holds you
Either way, be glad:
you are upright,
reaching
Organic kale, a cute Cape Cod, candles, ferry rides, CDs, DVDs, kites, Island Fudge.
None of these have I for sale.
No pipe dream, no dare to dream, no Just Say No or the latest of the best: Just Say Yes. No marketing scheme, donor wall, hidden agenda, theater tickets, attitude adjuster, happy pill, or pleasure potion.
None of these can you buy in the marketplace of my heart where the only product is presence. I am here. You are here. I hear you. You hear me. You be. I be.
We look, listen, and mine our feelings while we build connection– a wonder that cannot be bought.
Traveler Talker Sojourner of the soul who carried grief and woe the wet sun, a cloudy moon
Yet his eye sparkled his ear heard your every tone
His life almost too big to contemplate Complications arranged like chess pieces, baskets of tulips, basketballs on the bounce while he walked tall for he is . . .
A sunny path on summer’s day Autumn colored with cheer A comfort in winter’s chill The spring in hope’s step
A Man For Every Reason
And so, we call him Owen: brave, gallant, greathearted a force born with a damn good sense of humor
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY SON