Sunrise—the light of a new beginning,
the chance to start again.
Hope breaks through the clouds,
chasing away the dark, the rain.

Flowers—new growth,
showing change can be okay.
Petals reaching, leaves outstretched,
searching for their purpose, their plan.

But the wind will blow,
scattering the leaves, tearing the petals.
The thunder will roar, water will overtake,
hiding the light, stunting the growth.

But time will pass, the breeze will calm.
allowing the clouds and flowers to settle.
The sun brings new light, seeds bring new blooms.
The cycle continues, all the same.



Working and weaving,
Building a web of silk,
Creating a net for dreams.

Will it catch success,
Or only attract failure?
Can it keep fear at bay,
Or waver under the worry?

The sun will glitter off it, through it,
But so will the rain.
Regardless of what it’s made of.

One tear slid down her cheek as she walked towards the setting sun, the purple and navy shades of dusk settling in around her. What shocked her was not the small ache that settled in around her heart as she thought about the decision she had just made, everything that she had just walked away from, or the life she had just left behind.

What shocked her, was the sense of relief.


May not have represented hope…

A different angle can change everything.
It can provide a new perspective,
Help gain a fresh understanding.

The purple flowers, from any other side,
Would have just existed.
Would have just been there.

The leaves, if looked at from another direction,
Could have been trampled without a thought,
Could have been bit off by the hungry muzzle nearby.

The sunset, through any other lens,
Might have been missed.
Might not have been appreciated.

The light, if blocked by any thicker foe,
May not have interrupted the shadows.
May not have represented hope.


The moon shines through my window
I can see it without lifting my weary, sleepy head.
If only it was that easy to see you.

To check on you.
To know you.

There’s just a sliver tonight,
Most of it is blocked by earth.
Like you. And me. Us.

The wind howls and rattles the leaves.
The window shakes in anger.
The grass bows in submission from the weight
Of my questions.

Do you hate me? Love me? Forgive me?
Or am I forgotten? Swept away like leftover crumbs.
To be taken out on cleaning day.

The clouds are misleading.
Sometimes dark and thundering,
Sometimes pure and soft.
I guess it depends on the day
Or on your perspective.

That’s kind of how it is with my questions
At times pressing, demanding, even haunting.
Other times light and gently passing,
Not in desperate need of answers.

But like the moon, they come and go
Sometimes a sliver, sometimes consuming.
Sometimes easy to see, sometimes missing.
And sometimes, simply,




The lightning spat, the thunder growled. Dogs scurried every which way, searching for shelter under anything they could find. Most of the horses cowered into the darkest corners of their stalls, seeking safety, but not him. He was unswerving, storm tested, braver than all. He was his own security. His russet head hung over the stall door, his golden eyes quiet, considerate. The rain dripped down from the cracked gutter, soaking his floppy ears and face. But he didn’t seem to mind. I had to wonder why. Could he hear my thoughts? Was he done, was this the end? Would he ever be the same again? Was that what kept him still? I realized my own face was just as drenched-but not from rain. From the burning, salty tears staining my cheeks, sneaking freely from cracked tear ducts.

So Easy

It’s so easy to forget 

When I’m caught up in my loneliness

That You’ve planned out every step 


It’s so easy to forget

When I long for my own way

That You know what’s best for me 

It’s so easy to forget 

When the wind roars and drowns you out 

That Your voice can still the sea


It’s so easy to forget 

When darkness floods and I can’t find hope

That You make all things possible 

It’s so easy to forget

When I feel forgotten and left out 

That You make all my dreams attainable