The Art of Flight

The Art of Flight

  Like a bird who can’t enjoy flying but instead only pecks, eats and drinks, I race from one activity to the next.   I end each day stretched out on the bed wanting nothing but sleep.   But suddenly I awaken. I watch my movements fast and jerky, my...
One-Winged Moth

One-Winged Moth

I nearly sit on the yellow moth speckled with gray that rests on the patio chair. Sadly, it crawls across the metal, wobbling with its single wing.   Up close I see the dark spot where the second wing once hung.   Oh you poor flightless soul. No longer will...

The Budding Self

If I could only see myself the way I see my garden…   In its fledgling flax and parched penstemon I see graceful limbs and bold blossoms opening to the desert sun.   In the microscopic thyme that barely survived the winter, I see a brave heart. Kneeling to...

Hear the Music

I concentrate to play each note right Pluck the base, strum the treble. Focus on the beat, one-two-three-four. Oh, but don’t forget the syncopation!   Then comes the arpeggio: Fingers move so fast they crash into each other!   And of course the words: I must...