A quiet home for the truths I carry—the ache, the beauty, the sacred ordinary.

A meditation on forgetting and remembering, wandering and homecoming, the quiet grace of being human and finding beauty again in what has always been before our eyes.

Why I WriteI write because I can’t not write.Because something inside me stirs,and it needs somewhere to go.I write to find clarity,to make sense of…

Doorway She lies in the doorway as I get ready, not blocking, not beckoning, just being. A soft, golden hush between one world and the…

I am only a whisper on the breeze A softly falling snowflake in a sea of white A dancing leaf from atop a majestic oak…

Bring Me a Rainstorm A single flash of lightning cuts through my sacred space,hand resting on the page,fingers curled around my pen.and oh, in that…

There are times when I feel more fragile than a feather,a tender leaf among a field of brilliant wildflowers,dwarfed by the brilliance of the world.My…

I could write a letter to the poets of the world, and oh, the things that I could say!There would be no holding back.After all,…