Reminder her, January is a month to regroup — She was so tired. The kind of tired, that turns whitecaps into a dozen tiny surrender flags. Yet she was too tired to raise her arms. So, instead of fighting the pressure to do more, write more, be more, and think clearer, she stopped. And let the waves lull her into their natural…

I prefer soft landings and slow starts — I prefer soft landings and slow starts. Space to deliberately study a leaf’s lineage. To feel words as they roll over my tongue. Is there a river-like cadence? Or do I need a valley of vowels with voles? Am I caught in the grey shale shades, unable to find the…

A glimpse of self-love — When the grass is covered with a fine blanket of frost and the trees stand still while the air curls over rooftops I am suspended inside its magic the coldness taps at the windows, and inside, there is warmth in the shape of a blue mug one plate one cat at a table and my words calling me deeper into self-love…

A morning moment of gratitude — When sunlight reaches my round brown kitchen table and the scent of coffee punctuates the soft silence, there’s a warmth and sound of colors. Gold and scarlet dance along the fringes of deciduous trees, and the evergreens keep watch loyal and gentle protective and real sentient guards of Nature. All…

Listen to your heart’s needs — Something is in the air a taste of old and new a touch of hope a light of fresh brought by the shorter days where I feel drawn to cozy down into my nest to contemplate this year’s treasures and when I awake the days will grow brighter but for now, they dwindle with ease and I’m okay to close my eyes and listen to my…

Certain voices no longer haunt me — My day started with a phone call its spell evoked memories so, I poured my heart into a blue cup and sipped and sipped ’til the clock’s ticking said, ‘let’s go for a walk.’ And so, I did. Up a snowy path I was greeted by the trees. I nodded to my evergreen friends…

A respite from winter’s storms — On my back porch there are faded fossils of flowers still embedded in flowerpots a reminder of a sultry summer. Their flora is now strands of aged beauty lacy taupe and tans and tawny curls escaping over the edges like seafoam rolling over a quiet shore waiting to be carried out to sea where their seeds are planted deep, deep, deep inside a shell just in time for…

And its wonderful wisdom — Soft grey strands populate my thoughts and grow by my temples. Aging knows less is more and the gentle corners to explore a leaf the wind drinking the colors of said sweet sunset the amber foliage dancing reggae, all of which are exquisite. Being single is sadly equated to not being…

Starts when we listen to our needs — I was trying too hard, did too much, and overstretched my time when I finally stopped and bowed my head to the sensibilities tucked inside of rest. Intuitively I was led to the sorcery of the wiry winds walloping wildly. Not exactly a jingle but a ping-a-ting and a swoosh of icy pelts dancing right outside my…