The Shadow in Me


Sometimes, we catch a glimpse.

Of beauty.

Of life.

Our gazes wander and search.

For our fascinations.

For our dreams.

Maybe today, we catch our shadow.

Of who we are.

Of who we might be.

Our regal colors of intensity.

For our quest.

For our inspiration.

Maybe, we get lost.

We lose our way.

We lose our sight.

Our plans of peace, a shadow in our hearts.

Of what we want.

Of what we deserve.

But sometimes, our shadows emerge.

Our glimpses become clear.

Our hearts rejoice in the pureness of another day.

In all our glory.

In all our differences.

In every detail.

In every moment.

This poem is dedicated to my friend, and my mother-in-law, Sue Kelcey who has emerged from a brain aneurysm and stroke to tell the entire family and hospital floor how much she loves them. How special they are and to thank them for taking care of her since the end of September. Her heart filled with beautiful intention of getting home.

When I wonder why I am blogging, and what is it all for…..I think of her life journey. A journey that gives me inspiration to do what I do (and stop complaining already!).

I think of the pain she has been through. The struggle of physical therapy and her desire to hold hands with her family to celebrate life. Every memory, of every touch, and every touch, of every day; what kept her pushing through it all. I think of the moment this Sunday, when she hugged her granddaughters to her chest for the first time in months. Heaving sobs of gratefulness into their silky hair and squeezing them close with her one working arm. Every moment, every detail. It was beautiful. Hold on. You never know when your last day is here. Cherish the ones you have.

Encourage love. Encourage acceptance. Speak your heart. Live your dreams. Believe. The shadows are nothing but fear.

What inspires you?
PhotobucketMama's Losin' It
Prompt 2)Write about a time someone made you smile *through the happy tears*

Photos from the Butterfly Conservatory at the State Fair of Texas.

Sighting Home

**photos by Angelia

One-hundred and seventy-eight miles Northeast of my residence, lies a small Oklahoma town. Outside of town is an even smaller slice of country life; a blip on the map. Therein lies my home of childhood, at least most of childhood. It is different now. The trees are taller, the windows more obscure behind the smoky glaze of age.

Knickknacks have come and gone, although some still stand their place of posturing on the shelf. The carpet replaced; from laminate, to shag, to wood. Bathroom faucets spray from an unfiltered spout in a rough sideways fountain. The kitchen window no longer overlooks an in-ground pool. The pool long filled in. The back-yard tree canopies the view, casting over the window, a green filtering sunlight shade of leaves.

The small shrub plants a foot tall are now tree size.

The country made Bees love them.

Such beauty at work.

In harmony.

In peace.

Maybe they see you, and wonder your purpose as well.

A happy cottage beckons it’s promise of playful cheer.

Spring flowers long past their bloom bake in the sun, awaiting the turn of season.

Three hours of driving to sight home. Three hours to revel in the brisk nature, city sidewalks just don’t encapsulate. Sentiment, and wonder alive through the lens.

Joie de vivre cradled in a ripened era.

I, literally, could not put my camera away.

Home, not just from the dusty gravel road, but from the 55mm lens of grown-up aspect.