I have found, beauty is the illumination of the mind.

Dark furrow lines grid the snow, punctuated by orange abacus beads of pumpkins - now the crows own the field.

And not out of fear or loneliness, but only to find myself again... for we have come too far my Life, to turn back now.

I make no apology about stirring the depths - every human longs to swim under water and see what lurks beneath

I love it when the dark bottle of night spills out, and the Moon writes in chalk about us.

Here's what I've learned - people will hurt you, but you don't have to respond: Not every mean comment or cruel act deserves to be noticed.

I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.