We went down to the lake

to skip stones

with the boy, turning into a man soon,

but still little enough

and joyful enough

to want to learn how to skip stones

from two old people. 

We were surprised he had never skipped stones before

and delighted to show him how to do it:

Look for flat, light stones,

use a strong, low level, horizontal throw,

and voilà--

multiple...

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I feel a poem coming on,

Oh what joy!

I pick up a pen

and let the words slide across the page

like a skater twirling across the icy land of winter,

like a swimmer diving into the cooling waters of summer.

Writing is like rain,

it falls,

it nourishes,

it refreshes.

Writing is power--

discovered,

shared,

releasing,

embracing.

I feel a poem coming on--

...

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Breathe deeply into the rhythm of the cosmos,

no need to turn to the chop-chop race of the world's clock,

set yourself to the peaceful pace of eternity

and you will be amazed at the ease of each passing day.

Success in life can be a slow-moving train,

stops along the way of happiness and sorrow.

Descend the stairs of time with patient elegance,

breathe deeply into the open sky...

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There is an angel cascading from our window frame,

made of stained glass at an artist's hands,

purchased from a little shop stumbled upon when wandering.

By the window at her feet,

we placed flowers dwelling in a vase of water,

short-lived their out-of-soil bloom,

but wondrous nonetheless.

Art and plants, growth and loss,

all part of the experience,

this human,...

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When you feel like you have too much to do,

do one thing.

Set your intention to simple:

a single step, 

a gentle smile,

a slow touch.

The busyness becomes quiet,

the sense of harriedness lifts,

the day blooms like a flower petal,

softly opening,

freshly scented.

All that needs to be done,

will be done,

one peaceful breath at a time.

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Live in joy,

she said, 

at three thirty-three in the morning

when I woke up and looked at the bluish light of the digital clock on the dresser

and heard her mama voice in the soft echoes of my mind.

I thought of the young man from church

who I kept running into (not literally) as he walked the streets and I drove the streets of my bustling town.

"Hello!," I said, as I rolled d...

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