Verse
Dogs Are Angels
All dogs are angels. This piece is dedicated to Compton. You will always be in my heart.
The Promise of Morning
I’m a morning person. Mornings offer a beautiful, fresh start when the sun awakens us to new possibilities. Here is The Promise of Morning.
Planting Seeds in Hibernation
Winter is a quiet and sacred time – a time to reflect and heal – perhaps a time to even hibernate.
We’re Oh So Missing You
During the response to the pandemic in 2020 some of us went into withdrawals from performing with and listening to our musician friends. I guess we missed a lot of people. We missed the shop owners, the local dive bars, our hairdressers, and all of us that make up our little towns. This one is for those passionate folks who made us Really Miss Them.
The Light Remains
This piece was re-written several times and addresses being hurt by a beautiful friend and coming to the realization that all of the special times we had before were still important and it’s ok to take joy from those memories and let go of any pain that remains from the breakup.
Stand in the Light
Written for friends who were too tender for this world - Stand in the Light.
My Quiet Space
Written at a time when I faced many external demands, My Quiet Place explores how important a sense of quiet and tranquility are to me.
Under the Moon Where I Belong
There is nothing that inspires like time spent under the moon.
I’m Your Daughter
I’m Your Daughter addresses healing, hope and being vulnerable for a purpose.
I Didn’t Cry
The following poem I wrote is disturbing and I don’t share it lightly. When I confronted my mother, after years of therapy, about childhood abuse I had endured and why she didn’t protect me or leave my perpetrator, she responded with “you didn’t cry”. This is for all the ones who haven’t cried.
Ode to My Left Breast
Written for a dear friend, this work explores the strength of the spirit inside a woman facing the loss of one of her breasts to cancer.
Runaway to Ruidoso
…I’d listen to the sounds of muffled quiet and the soft whispers of wind through the tall pines. It was these memories that brought me to write the words to “Runaway to Ruidoso”.
Reflections on the Oak Beyond My Garden Gate
Imagine an oak tree as so much more. | Audio Version Available