Sunday, March 22, 2009


Maggie May

Nove 4, 1996 -- March 22, 2009

You Were My First Baby

You were my first baby
Warm against me in the night
Whose illnesses
Made me sleepless
as I worried
and nursed you
to wellness again

You were my first baby
Playful and bouncing
Giving love without end
And opening my heart
To give in return

You were my first baby
And as time passed
Other babies came
And you graciously
Stepped aside

But you were my first
And you taught me

And through these things
You live on
In my heart
And the hearts of all
Whom I pass it to.

Rest in Peace Maggie

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Beyond the Rainbow: Flower


Oh, the glory of Life

Who knows

she must surpass

even her own creative love

to dress the most exquisite of all events,

the zenith of being,

the creation of life.

Subtle and delicate

painfully beautiful

with aromas to seduce

and colors to enchant

and curves to invite

To gaze upon it

Swells the heart

With Trust.
Draped in innocence
Life Begins.

Where beauty of form

and elegance of function meet

Therein lies heaven

Friday, March 13, 2009

Beyond the Rainbow: Leaf


Little leaf

You are far from home

Do you remember your brothers and sisters

Fanned across the sky

Like a great green headress.

Do you remember being one of many

But many of one

All connected to the great trunk

Of Life.

Do you remember the dark damp earth

Beneath sight of sun

The roots tangling


So far from you,

But still you.

Do you remember, little leaf

So far from home

That the whole world

Runs in your veins?

Thursday, March 12, 2009

A Good Start

So, as most of my family knows, for many years, when I did eat breakfast it consisted of some variation of this:

I have heard all the aphorisms:

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

"Your first meal should get you off to the right start."

"Breakfast sets the tone for the rest of the day."

I have heard all these things, but still, I couldn't help setting the tone of my day with loads of sugar, and, before Noelle was born, caffeine.

There was one time when I ate leisurely, hearty breakfasts over tea: in Ireland. And I had vowed that I was always going to start my day that way when I returned home.

But, alas, it didn't happen.

Until now.

Here are what my breafasts have been like for the past couple weeks:

Now the mornings are a swirl of flour, milk, eggs, and the song of morning chatter as we all await the mound of blueberry goodness piling up.

Now that's the way to start the day.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

An Unexpected Calm

We have been visiting alot of cemeteries lately with the letterboxing and geocaching. I have been trying to reflect on how I feel about this.

When I was young, I used to hold my breath as I passed, after being told you can become possessed by breathing in the dead. I saw many a horror film take place in a haunted graveyard, grey stones jutting out against a black sky.

As I grew older, my superstition was replaced by an analytical rationality. I thought the world should be for the living, not for the dead, and these graveyards were a sort of indulgence by human beings just wanting to live on past their time here.

And yet, now, when I walk through these old and preserved places, an unexpected calm and peace come over me.

And an unexpected realization. These places are for the living. They are public spaces just as much as any park. Except there are no blaring colors and metal jungles here. There is quiet, and trees, and grass, and flowers, and bits of fabric from silk flowers long worn out, and a toppled vase here or there. There are words of sorrow, hope, and love chiseled in granite.

And there is the voice of the past. As I walk through the stones, some readable, some so worn they now only look like stone, I can hear the stories of human kind being told. Stories of husbands lost to war, of children lost too soon, of men and women grown old, of generations upon generations of people who so loved this land in Parker County that mother, father, daughter, son, grandmother, grandfather, and on and on, all chose it as the home they wished to finally return.

As I walk through, it is never so apparent to me that one day I will lie again in the earth, that my time here is a gift that should not be badly spent in annoyance, weariness, or anger. Life is short no matter how long it may sometimes give the illusion of being. And with this experience of the value of my time here comes a calm that allows me to weather torrents that would normally wear me down.

And there is a comfort that comes with knowing that even when I am gone, perhaps my bones underneath a granite stone, there will still be people walking above.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Trees of Spring

I have posted a tribute to the Trees of Spring and several other things over on

Thursday, March 5, 2009

The Little Things

I want to take the time to write down some of the cute, quirky things Noelle does here and there that are likely to slip out of focus in my memory, that is until I go back to my handy blog and read about them=).

I will keep adding as I remember things.

1.) The way you throw back your head and open your mouth when you want me to howl. You are still making gallant attempts to howl yourself, but only a thins sort of hissing sound comes out. Keep trying, you'll get it=).

2.) The way your little bum starts bouncing when you hear any beat, even if it is just Mom beating on the floor.

3.) The way you say "Mwa!" when you kiss me now.

4.) The way you take such good care of your stuffties (stuffed toys). You give them such big hugs in the mornings.

5.) The way you have to bring every new toy/thing that you like to nurse with you as some sort of baby initiation rite.

6.) See Above Picture

7.) The way you want to share everything you love with the people you love, especially food. You already seem to know that sharing happiness only makes it grow.

8.) The way you seem to get the biggest kick out of pointing to a tree for me to say "Tree!" over and over.

Monday, March 2, 2009


"My crown is in my heart, not on my head,
Nor decked with diamonds and Indian stones,
Nor to be seen: My crown is called content:
A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy. "

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Happy Birthday Mom!

The Spirits Enchanting
To Run with the Wind
Romp in the sun
Freedom bids calling
with every turn
Majestically dancing
purest of heart
beckoning Joy
And all heavens truth
And Horses run freely
Frolic and play
The essence of freedom
We seek everyday
When we were children
They Touched in our dreams
We return once again
With blessed vision we see.
Hearts of pure giving
Kissed by the sun
free is the spirit
light as the wind
In all of their strength,
and in their power
Sheer elegant grace
Capable of Fury
The heart of the beast
Gentle and giving
awaken the places
Our hearts may be sleeping
So gentle and kind
wanting to please,
honesty's essence
purest of love
The call of the wild
Sings straight to our souls
To watch horses running
"Magic!" ... behold~.
Hear angels singing,
As they dance with the wind
Great Spirit Calling.
Comforted souls
Centered and joyous
Still freedom's promise...

Running with Horses
Right here before us.
--D. Enise