Sunday evenings are heavier than clouds with rain, darker too and often interminable.

Ambition or contentment? This simple question led me back to a more balanced view of life and put me in touch with the Me I used to know.

I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists

When I think of you it's with tears, because no one else has such delicate hands that can reach into my soul and calm my fears.

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

You can be angry and silent, but it's no use - there's no distance in the spirit - besides, my words touch you more softly than my hands.

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