Magpie 43

I remember making snow angels when I was a child. Impervious to the cold, coming in only when forced by adults worried now about blue fingers and noses too red.

My own children play outside, and I call them into the warmth. Not because I am worried they are too cold, but because nothing feels better than giving their cool little bodies warm hugs. Inviting them in, into the sanctuary of warmth.

This is bliss.

This is love.


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Pause

we measure time

as it ticks away

counting down

what was

we measure time

as what lies ahead

wondering what shall be

but each moment

before another ticks away

there is a breathless stop

a pause 

this is now

another Magpie Tale

Seeking

I sought riches

And found myself poor

I sought power

And found myself weak

I sought beauty

And thought myself ugly

I sought to be loved

And found myself wanting

But at last…

I sought to BE LOVE

And found myself

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Cockadoodle

You know you want me.

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Broken Laws

From Magpie Tales

Your words were
my commandments
They were the laws
of Who I Am

I gave them pure
acknowledgement
Until love
could at last condemn



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Magpie Tales

I’m not supposed to talk about depression, about the heavy weight that tugs upon me. 

We are well. We are strong. We are just…fine.

So I crawl into my bed. Very sleepy.

I say.

Just tired. Run down.

But the covers do not hide me from myself.

Sleep does not make it go away.

My perceptions are distorted.  Twisted.

And it takes me a while to see past.

And it takes a while to see past it.

It takes a while.




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