Gloriously Whole

If it's bent,
it is not broken.
If it's broken,
it is not shattered.
If it's shattered,
it is not whole.

Yet with a soul,
it can be broken.
It can be bent.
It can be shattered.
It will be whole.

The broken pieces are not needed;
they can be swept away.
The bent pieces create a newness that lives today.
The shattered parts were just illusions; parts we were told to play.

We let them go.

The broken.
The bent.
The shattered.
To find we are gloriously whole.


The Door Has Opened

You waited a long time to finally notice. 
My bags are packed.
My foot is out the door.

You cry,
"But, Wait! I will try harder! I Promise!"
Truth is, I have waited excruciatingly long for you to try a little bit,

For you to show me you even knew I existed.
I cannot wait anymore.

The door has opened.
One foot is resting on freedom.
The other foot is tapping it's goodbye.

See you.
Not even in the next life.

Future Garden

The shovel pierced the earth for the hundredth time. Sinking as low as it could, then lifting dirt, turning it, and placing it back inside the hole. The shovel continued like this for a few more minutes until Antoinette decided she needed a drink of water.

Stopping to drink, she gazed at the newly turned ground. The future of her flower and herb garden. It was hard work turning the soil by hand, but she knew that once the flowers bloomed it would be worth every sore muscle.

Smiling she went back to digging. Imagining the plants blooming and thriving in her future garden.


She sat under the spray of the sprinkler, water glittering through the air, catching the sunrays. She imagined she was being sprinkled in stardust, and everyone knows stardust is magical. She will become magical, too.

She lay back, letting the water droplets roll off her. Surprisingly, the stardust was cold. She thought it would have been warm or hot.

She squinted her eyes to prevent the water from going into them and watched the rainbow of colors appear under the spray of water. Like the night sky, only magical in a different way.

Is that not like life? Connecting one thing, but at the same time being absolutely different.

Oak Leaf

Twirling through the air, Brown and dry, the oak leaf drifted past us on our midday walk. The walk was our quest to find the best iced over puddles.

“Can you eat an oak leaf?” The five year old asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe if you boiled it?” He said, as he twirled the leaf in his hand. He intended to bring the leaf inside the house to feed to his stuffed animal caterpillar.The caterpillar liked oak leaves best.

“Pehaps if you boiled it. I really never thought of eating an oak leaf.”

Iced over puddles can wait another day as we head inside with lunch for a caterpillar .