And… I threw away her purse today And inside were bits of me The purse was old and tattered Just as she was at the end Her mind was frayed and worn Like yarn that had been worried By fingers picking at each Memory or worry of her life The purse was soft and smooth Just like her skin at the base of her throat Where we would place our heads For comfort when we young And even when we were older When time or life betrayed us Reaching far inside into it Like her heart inside her c

And … There but for the Grace of God go I With finger tips of blue I am blessed with children who can see and feel And paint the skies of blue I am blessed with smiles of creatures that Only I can see And I am blessed with moments of The smallest memories And there but with the Grace of God The Love which fills my heart I have struggled with life lessons Perhaps came from the start Journeys taken long ago Are mingled in the now Voices hidden to the rest Rush forth inside my b

And… Betrayal slips around my soul and shoulders like the fog encompassing me softly and securely The cool warmth hides the smiles of those that lay the blanket ever so gently like a whisper from a fraudulent lover Missing the intent of the smile I grasp at the wisps of fog like fringes On the ends of throws hand-woven with care Tenderly stroking and stoking the flame like that of illicit love Betrayal and fog fuse furiously Gyrating to incessant drums that Beat within the in

Inspiration comes in many forms.... It is not only looking under rocks or at the sky ~ it is looking within oneself and finding the deep desire that lives in our hearts. We could say that our Spirits have always had inspiration from the time of our beginning and that there is no end to it. Some look endlessly for it. Inspiration is intangible like the wind ~ You can feel it brush against you, you can see it move trees or the grass but to grasp it in your hands you can not do