Heartshaped Tears

Each day as the numbers rise, the lump in my throat grows larger as I am reminded that they are more than just numbers. Someone is losing a loved one. Someone is worried they will lose a loved one. Someone is feeling cut-off and alone, like there may be no way out. I feel helpless and the tears cannot be held back. I shed tears filled with love because love is one thing that has not been stopped when the brakes were put on the world as we knew it.

I am posting the link to two songs that I feel offer hope and peace. I send love to you, my fellow readers.

You’re Gonna Be Okay by Brian & Jenn Johnson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjF9IqvXDjY

Be Still My Soul by Kari Jobe

What Would It BE

BWB5 (personal photo)

if you could tell me
one truth, what would it be,
beneath the red lights
and giant letters along the street;
what fact would emerge

Dear Friends

Spread_a_little_love_by_smileys_4_eva

December wishes
sparkle among starlit skies
rise along moonbeams

trace a path of hope
from your lips to my heart

Dear friends,
I want to wish you all the best of the holiday season. I am grateful for the inspiration I have received from reading many of your posts and I am grateful for the encouraging comments many of you have chosen to send to me.
I will be away until January 8th for a fabulous trip to Antarctica. I plan to share photos and thoughts about the trip when I return!
Merry Christmas Everyone
May 2016 be more than Amazing 🙂
Sincerely,
Mary

The Pen, My Friend

ink splash

The pen, my friend, lays quiet.
Aches for my touch.
I ignore it.
Too busy.
I flit here and there,
a gnat disturbing activities
just enough to be annoying
but not enough to make
a lasting difference.

My friend, the pen, waits.
Silent.
Until I have no choice
but to return.
I see her lying there calm and quiet.
I return to unleash chaos.
I splash ink across the page.
I saturate white with explosive ideas.
Thoughts that have been
hibernating, dormant,
hovering on the cusp of awareness,
release.
A frenzy of strokes and letters
circle up and down
until my pen begs to be put down.
It cries to be ignored again
so it can catch its breath,
relax,
dissolve into peace.