The Writing Journey

To a friend

As I write this post, I am thinking of a dear friend. About two months ago when I told her my plans to attend graduate school in the near future she asked me about my writing. I told her I am on a break for now. But a few weeks after that I started writing poems again. Her prodding helped me work on a handful of poems, some of which I’ll read at a poetry event next month.

I want to tell this dear friend (you know who you are) that your friendship is of infinite value.

It is wonderful to have friends that care about you enough to ask simple questions. You never know where they may lead. Or how you can help another reach for possibilities by being a friend.

It is this simple joy of friendship I want to share with all who read my words today. Continue to be a friend. Ask questions and encourage each other along. The journey of life is much sweeter when we walk together and build those people-connections we share.

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The Writing Journey

Human

I am not made of glass

nor candle sticks

my back is no garden wall of flowers

Continue reading “Human”

Nuggets of Inspiration

What Does it Mean to Endure?

Some days are a crushing weight

on my shoulders

But I am too busy to breathe

too busy to feel sorry

the nights are the hardest

when cluttered thoughts refuse to sleep

But I endure

 

 

 

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Angels

Sometimes I feel like angels

are very close, watching me.

Continue reading “Angels”

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Photo Challenge: Against All Odds

Last year this time

I had no idea you would be mine.

Continue reading “Photo Challenge: Against All Odds”

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The Real Me

Sometimes, while Niya naps and the minutes drift by I find my mind reflecting on the past. I retrace my steps, wonder at the small things that do not matter, like the job I quit a while back, the books I should have written… At times like this when the world is quiet and all I hear is the whir of the fan and Niya breathing, I remind myself of the real me, how I am right where I’m supposed to be.

Continue reading “The Real Me”

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In Stillness of the Night

The lights are out

for the first time since my return to Jamaica.

Suddenly I can hear the insects

singing in the night. The stillness

is frightening

and yet I can feel

my heart no longer a distant drum.