Is not a thought a miniscule point of energy with which we collide with billions in our life sending as many or more ourselves. To imagine a thought like a particle floating in the air. It is thick with them but we cannot see them with our eyes. We move through them like moving through… Read More Think it Forward – Prose
People flow through our lives for various amounts of time and countless reasons. They breathe life into you, give you something you need. A little advice. A shoulder to weep on. A moment of contemplation. Some much needed sunshine. How many strangers less friend more acquaintance have you known who have touched your life? Soft… Read More A Touch to Remember
My father was born with a real silver spoon in his mouth, not gold not platinum but a nice solid silver. Not by any fault of his own but rather by his family having practiced good business and money-wise decisions. I still have his monogrammed solid silver christening cup. I was born with a silver… Read More Spoons
An Old Way with Words My father in his off-handed way imparted some advice on us. Advice of which I have shared with my children and hopefully will to their children too. “Your word is the only thing you truly own and take with you when you die.” By this he meant of all the things… Read More Your Words – Be Remembered Well!
Flesh and bone Our spark is strong But strength in one breath, Can be replaced by death. Life needs to be earned. Fragile the stone. As a feather blown When the hammer of war Rocks us to center and core. Will we never learn? Humanity is drowned When survival is crowned. Life – a struggle… Read More Survival Crowned
I am no expert on the Runes but I am an admirer of the Northern Traditions. I wrote this to use with a set of rune stones to challenge my writing. Please feel free to share your comments, suggestions and/or improvements. The Writer’s Runes – The First Aett FEHU Cattle was to the people of the… Read More Writer’s Runes – The First Aett
Come on lets go see that house that caught fire.” Johanna said pulling Lisa out the door. “Poppa we are going outside to play.” She called out. If anyone of the girls could sniff out something to do that was out of the ordinary and sometimes got her sisters into trouble, it was Johanna. Dora… Read More The Blanket
(This is a short piece written in 2002. I still remember this moment on this day although most of the thousands of miles I commuted over those years barely fire off a synapsis these days. Days like this one left imprints. Word Count 700) I pulled out of the parking lot and headed over the railroad… Read More The Commute