Made for TV

It was only an old TV show. 

It showed me a plain 

that I longed for. 

desperately hot, 

hot winds that sculpt the sand, 

sparse cacti, 

tough plants 

    cling to scant shade. 

amazing broad blue sky 

where a burning hot sun reigns. 

black star studded velvet sky at night.

sands magically covered in vegetation

when clouds and rains roll in. 

Of course it was only a TV show, 

polished and stunning for the camera. 

My dreams are something very different.

“When you’re in the desert, you look into infinity….It makes you feel 

terribly small, and also in a strange way, quite big.”

~ David Lean, Film Director

(1908 ~ 1991)

The Biggest of Lies

When you know 

that the sun will always shine, 

the wind will always blow 

whether your life 

spins out of control or 

is as placid as a lake on a summer’s day, 

you will also know that your heart 

will let your spirit and soul soar 

despite the naysayer’s surrounding you. 

And when one of those naysayers is

your own voice

telling you all that you can’t do 

let your spirit and your soul 

guide the way past that biggest of lies 

to the facts that are true.

“The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes 

to such a pass that he cannot distinguish the truth within him.”

~ Fyodor Dostoevsky, novelist

(1821 ~ 1881)

Delicious Aromas

The granola toasted ~ filled 

with oats, nuts and seeds ~ 

resting on the counter 

giving up the oven to 

a loaf of oat whole wheat bread. 

The aromas of spices and bread giving home the scent of other homes. This greater and short lived joy pulls all my homes out of thin air with memories from 

farm to apartments to houses

throughout the decades. 

It always surprises me when 

I can truthfully measure 

my life in decades. 

Through travels,   

  education 

     careers,

    families and friends

but aromas are home life 

inside the memories. 

No granola in the past, 

but the spices are the same as 

   the cookies, 

     apple sauce, 

       apple and pumpkin pies

from decades past. 

“Nothing awakens reminiscence like an aroma”

~ Victor Hugo, poet

(1802 ~ 1885)