She has walked into the middle of a dance. Leaves pirouette, tumble, twirl, glide… …in silent jubilation to the ground where they shimmy… a tap dance, a chorus line… …a marvel. An invitation.
“Peek-a-boo!” As Emma’s peal of laughter filled the sun-dappled air, her parents, Tracy and Eric, turned from the picnic table towards the sound of their daughter’s voice. Tracy gasped. Their daughter stood before an ancient, sun-kissed tree, slowly covering and uncovering her eyes playing the age-old game with— “What is that?” Eric asked, his voice
There were no more surprises that day until the sky began to darken. She looked to the west. “Oh!” she gasped, as a face formed before her eyes. “Hello!” she called. “I guess the Universe is always saying hello,” she said as the clouds rearranged themselves and the light faded from the sky. “You just
That morning there had been a lady bug waiting to greet her on the bathroom mirror. It seemed an auspicious event. “Hello,” she whispered to her polka-dotted guest. And though it was not a response she could hear, she felt sure the ladybug returned her greeting in kind. “I wonder what other surprises might be
When he was still young and green, he liked to say, “I’m separate from you.” Her reply never varied. “That’s how it should be.” Even so, he suspected there was something beneath her quiet, calm patience, a secret that belied her answer. He thought it might have to do with the echoes of her he
Red-tipped points collide with circles within an illusion of stars creating timeless patterns that collapse to a center just in time to make you forever lost.
She wonders when there will be time again to court her Muse. To take her for long, solitary walks, and plunge with her deeply into dreams, where they dove together without caution, through tempests of color, desires, emotions, only to merge back into the world, no longer ordinary, having been touched by the sublime, having
“…nine, ten! Ready or not, here I come!” Janey laughed, and scanned the grove of trees for her friend. Emma covered her mouth to keep from laughing and crouched low to the ground behind the tree. She’d picked the tree because it wasn’t very cute—kind of like a slug with arms. She thought it might
Walker flinches at the sound of footfalls behind her. Jogger, from behind: “On your right!” Walker, as Jogger passes on the right: “Thank you.” Jogger, passing: “Welcome.” Then, the Jogger looks over her shoulder—eyes wide, brows furrowed—before galloping down the hill. Walker wonders: What?! What are you staring at? Why are you frowning? Her self-consciousness
Like gossamer dream catchers, clouds lay down upon the sky where their filaments collect hope and desire as fragile as a wish.