I want to give you my everything,
but your hands are still full
with the one who came before me.

I woke up wanting your lips on mine.
I woke up wanting your arms around my waist.
I woke up wanting our hands laced together.
I woke up wanting to gaze into your eyes.
I woke up wanting you.

Oh, the hour was late, and lord my day was long, the shower only washing off the physical grime of the day. I was trying to unwind and still even swaddled in my favourite soft, soft pajamas did nothing to help. I sighed, reaching for my ringing phone, I knew who was on the end of the ringing phone and the thought brought a smile to my face.

The sweet sound of his hello was like soft loose flower petals falling to my cheeks, caressing softly. Gravity pulling their velvety fingertips along my skin, causing a sweet sensation, a total relaxed laziness to wash over me, every tension quickly ebbed. I always marvel how this universe works, how over blazing distance, through the myriad of technological bliss his voice traveled. It traversed mountains and valleys, rivers, deserts and bays to nestle sweetly into my ear, to drip slowly like honey into my brain. At first we are both shy, but as all things in this universe go it fell into an easy motion. His voice reverberated, the vibrations of his low tone flowed and trickled over my senses. It softly tickled and trilled, thrilling me to the bone.

It may seem strange or even silly to find such a thing so thrilling, but of all the gifts that could be given this was my favorite. The thought and the time put into it, the personal touch, if only paltry words, were like a treasure to me. I could see the refracting color of diamonds, I could almost taste it like thick red wine on my tongue. Oh, and like wine that voice produced interesting reactions in my body and soul. I laid back slowly letting my eyes drift closed, setting myself afloat on a raft of possibility. The moment would have been just as scintillating if he were reading the dictionary or perhaps a take-out menu to me, but these words seemed to match the resonance and it was positively quixotic

His words caressed my ear in such puddle-wonderful ways, they lightly kissed the rim of my ear with more than perfect syntax. I felt sensual and feminine, I rolled my head holding the phone to my ear, feeling his sweet lips caress the words and my skin. I stretched feeling sultry and kitten like. I opened the tender parts of my sensitive neck for his verbal ministrations. He dropped the symphony of his voice to barely a whisper. As if this was a truly dazzling, dark red, beautiful secret that he breathed along the edge of my lips. A nearly supplicant confession that he read, but it came to me as from his soul, that he liked my body… when it was with his body. His rich rumbling words tumbled deep in his chest, and breathed out as a near sigh that he liked the how’s and why’s, the feel of the spine of my body and its bones… and the trembling of my limbs. I purred feeling the words like hands flowing, his tone like kisses along my skin, on my lips. Those words, that ebullient vibration that carried them pulled at my soul, arching my back and parting my lips yearning for more kisses. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip in welcome.

I lazily rolled to my side, my mind seeking, my soul alive and my body responding, nestling closely into the arms of his verse he chanted let it go, and yes I did, I let go all the weight on my soul. The days, the weeks, the years, hopelessness, and heartbreak, every pall upon my soul dropped like the leaded weight that they were and all of the universe was he and I. I knew not any sunshine friend, when all I felt was his always omnipresent beauty. I let go of it all, forgotten was everything, but that

susurrate roll of thunder that deliciously licked at my ear, mmm that nipped at my neck.

Nothing which is perceived in this world equals the power of our momentary intense fragility, our open, freely feeling, sampling, tasting, breathing… loving, and yet it didn’t matter that he wasn’t even in the room. He wasn’t even in the same city, but alas… mmm this dalliance was beyond anything ever written, felt, or understood, and it was mine. May I feel he pled, mmmm But I’ll squeal, I said. I felt his sigh against my face, and the kiss to my forehead and those strong arms holding me as I softly, sweetly, for once in the longest time peacefully slipped into a beautiful dreamed sleep

It was a cool summer night. The blue velvet darkness dotted by bits of light coming from the buildings around me. I knew you the moment you stepped out of the darkness. Everything about you was familiar. The hat tipped over the eyes. The dancing, cool eyes. Oh, those dancing, cool eyes. A slight, mischievous smile. The long, graceful strides you took up the walkway to reach my side. All, all of it was as familiar to me as if I had known you all my life. And yet, it was the first time I had laid eyes on you. You were so familiar, this feeling of knowing you all my life, knowing you somewhere in time before, left me awestruck, dazed and confused. You reached for my hand, pulled me into an embrace and kissed the top of my head. I felt like I had been in those arms many, many times before. I felt safe, secure, where I was supposed to be, where I had always been. I wanted to stay there in that embrace for as long as I possibly could. I wanted to melt into you and for both of us to melt into the blue velvet of the night. I wanted to drown in those dancing, cool eyes, as emotions and moods filtered through them as we talked and held each other. I wanted to get lost in your embrace and your eyes. Yes, I miss those strong, warm arms, but I miss looking into those dancing, cool eyes the most.

I started this blog just a little over six years ago.  Just after my mother passed away.

I started, 1) because I love to write and wanted to share what I wrote with others and 2) to help me through the pain of loss, the loss of my mother.  Little did I know that within one year of starting this blog I would lose the three most important people in my life, my mother, my father, and my husband.  All within one year, November 2009, July 2010 and October 2010, the people I loved passed over to the other side.

So this blog, at that time, was my safe haven, my place to heal, survive, question, pray, cry.....everything just to get through that first year and the next two years after. And then for a little bit, it became my creative outlet.  I used it to work on my writing skills.  And just write.

And then, several years passed, and life took over, and I stopped writing here.  I did not stop writing.  I just stopped writing here.

But now I have decided to resurrect this blog from the ashes.  I have written so many things, journal upon journal of writings I want to share.  And I also find that I have need of the healing, catharsis aspect of this blog again.  Not because I have lost someone to death.  No, I lost something else.  Something that I need to figure out why I lost it.  Where did it go.  And can I ind something like it again.  Questions.  So many questions, but no answers.

Here in this blog I wish to explore those questions and see if I can find those answers,  And to those of you who are still following this blog, thank you.  Thank you for staying with me and welcome on this new journey with me.

Please also note, that at times there might be strong language and adult content written about in this blog.  It is all part of the journey, all part of the questions being asked and the answers sought.

I Love You Without Knowing...

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. 

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride. 

So I love you in this way because I know no other way of loving but this, 

in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, 

so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

Pablo Neruda

Yes. This is Love.

Some may call it Unconditional. Some may call it Love.

Simply that. Love. Unconditional Love.

When you Love, because there is no reason, other than Love.

I bow down graciously with respect to Pablo Neruda.

One of the poets whose words, have always found a way of touching my heart.

When I read his poetry, it makes we wish I spoke Spanish.

Simply so I could feel and touch the words, the way he wrote them from his own heart.

Much Loves,

The night walked down the sky with the moon in her hand.
~Frederic Lawrence Knowles?


half of our body is illuminated, and half of our body is in dark shadow.
this is the natural balance of things. it cant be all light. not yet. so the
best we can do is be ok with the shadow... sometimes the shadow is
loneliness. sometimes it is sorrow. sometimes it is disagreement. & on
the worst days, it is a monster inside that we didnt know we could be.
oh! how we think we should be so much better than we are by now!?
and the tricky thing about shadow is... the more we think about it, the
more it gobbles up the light. and we swirl in fear & guilt & confusion.
yesterday my shadow was in the form of a heron.. it sat on the edge of
water & spied me. i had to face my heron but i didnt have the strength.
thats when i fell in a deep sleep on my pillows. my legs became a tree
trunk and my body was as heavy as an elephant. i stayed very still...
i wanted to ascend into pure love and light... but i was way too afraid.
thats when it happened. thats when i was moon-cooled... a light fairy
took me to the moon & i rested in the place where the shadow meets
the light. i stayed there for some time just waiting. then she began to
pour light blue sand over the top of me. it fell down in cold powdery
waves until i was covered in a cone of sea-blue sand. i stayed there
in my tipi where it was cool. dwelling in peace. in a cone of neutrality.
until i could move again... when i got up, the inside of me was steady
and my arms were light. i sat up on the edge of my nest and blinked.
i had found moon-cooled neutrality & it was a simple weapon to grasp.
i looked at the heron right in the eye and did not feel one single thing.

The Writer Lives... a story "Through The Secret Keyhole

It's been ages since I lasted posted, but for good reason.

Do you ever feel "bloggers guilt" after not posting as you regularly do? I had felt that a lot lately and decided that I needed to take a break and let that go. Blogging is supposed to be something fun - not a chore you must keep up on. Thus, I decided I would post whenever I wanted and not worry about some silly schedule. Our whole lives are scheduled down to the last minute (at least mine is) so why should this be? Blogging seems to fit seamlessly into some blogger's lives, but not mine.

The Writer Lives

......and here is a little story for all of you, 

Through The Secret Keyhole

She never dreamed she would grow old.

She felt young even today.

And in her heart of hearts, she certainly was.

She sat pondering this in that great big old house, that once was a home to everyone in her family...

Now, she lived in it alone.

Well, actually...

Everyone in the small village thought she was alone.

But, she wasn't.

She still skipped about, as if she were a girl of 12 -

And would run through the open pasture out back, and into the woods to her secret hiding place...

Everything felt to her, as cozy as cozy could be.

As beautiful as beautiful could be.

At night, when it was time for bed, someone else led the way up the rickety staircase...

And never ever did she feel alone.

Not even for a day.

It is deep in the night

It is deep in the night when I wake up from a deep sleep for no reason, that the fears come.
They come fast and they come hard.
It is deep in the night when I worry about everything I tell me myself during the day will be alright.
It is deep in the night when every pain in my body feels ten times worse then it is.
It is deep in the night when I think that pain is something more serious then it is.
It is deep in the night when I think of my own mortality.
It is deep in the night when I feel oh so scared, so frightened of what is to come.
It is deep in the night when I think where is the strength going to come from to get me through something else.
It is deep in the night when I think what else could happen or go wrong.
It is deep in the night when I miss those who are gone the most.
 It is deep in the night when I so desperately need to hear another human voice.
It is deep in the night when I feel just how alone I am in this world.
It is deep in the night when I think I just can't go on anymore.
It is deep in the night when I miss the how it feels to be held.
It is deep in the night when I need to be loved and made love to
It is deep in the night when I need to love someone and make love to
It is deep in the night when I miss someone saying to me "I need you"
It is deep in the night when I miss someone saying to me "I love you"
It is deep in the night when I cry now
It is deep in the night when I wish someone could hear me cry and reach out to me and say "everything will be alright"
It is deep in the night when I wonder if everything will ever be alright again.
It is deep in the night when I face all of these fears and more.  I face them head on.  I let them wash over me.
It is deep in the night when I embrace these fears.
It is deep in the night when I let these fears know they have no hold over me.  Not now.
But it is deep in the night that I let them come.  That I give them room to breathe.  For if they stay locked up they will become too powerful.  And I won't give them that power.
It is deep in the night.
And the deep of the night is just the hours between night and day.

I Have a Confession

I have a confession


Some of you may already know, some of you may have guessed, some of you it would have never crossed your mind.  I do not put it out there for all to see.  I have respect for other points of view.  Please respect mine.  I do not talk publicly about it but I will talk privately if you have questions.  But I will not talk to you if all you have to say is inflammatory remarks.  But as the time passes, the days move on I must be true to who I am and so I share this because like everything else it is time.


I am what you would call a green witch or earth witch ( my magic is of the earth and plants ) even my body feels the slight changes of the winds and trees ..As i walk in the woods i feel the pulse of life so very strong ( if you just stop and listen you can here the tree spirits whisper ) i always walk before i paint as to open my third eye to all things ......................bright Blessings on the day to all 

My Dearest Raymond

My Dearest Raymond

It is time to write these words to you
In the silence I can hear you calling my name like a lark in the meadow.
In the evening shadows I feel your presence so close standing next to me/
In the deep night of sighs I can hear the sound of beating wings as you watch over me.
In these fleeting moments you are still here with me.  I am not alone anymore.
In these shadowy moments I cry and you hold me.  And I love you once more.
In these days when I feel so alone, so frightened, you come to me and say ' I am still here with you.'
In these  moments only you and the pillow I cry in know that if I could be with you I would.
I am caught between the veils of the worlds.....stay in the shadows with you or move forward into a new life.
I am betwixed and between
For there are days when I am so lonely, your memory rises to the surface and I just want to stay there forever.
Friends think I am no longer sad.  I hide the sadness much better now.  The sadness is still there.
All I ever wanted was to grow old with you.  You always said we would not.  You were right.  We will not grow old together. How did you know? I am the one who knows things, sees things, but this, this one thing was veiled to me.
There are days when I have lost all hope.  There are days that I just don't want get up out of bed. There are days that I miss you so much. Those are not so close to together as they once were, but I still have them.
I find the weekends the hardest.  They were the days we did everything together...road trips, shopping, you letting me sing off-key and not complain, dancing with me when you don't like to dance, messing with your HAM radios seeing how far we can reach and in what language, going to the zoo because I wanted to see the big cats,  me asking you hundred of questions about nothing and you patiently answering my questions. I have so many more questions about nothing, but no one to ask them to.  I really, really never thought I would be so alone right now.Never.
I miss you very much.

I loved you and I love you
The one you left behind
Your wife
Jan
'

My Opinion on Banning Books

It is not often that I talk about my opinions in regards to causes that people believe in, but what happened over the weekend kind of sets me seething.  Let me state first, that I am a firm believer in everybody’s right to stand up for their opinions and rights.  However, when someone tells me that I have no right to read something or have it carried in my local library because of the content of the books, then I get upset.  Then to come to my door and want me to sign a petition to ban some books from the local library, and when I politely refused to sign, and when pushed for the reason why I won’t sign, and I stated that I do not believe in banning books, to call me a non-Christian, immoral person goes beyond anything decent.

I do no believe in banning books.  I may not agree with, or like some books, but I will not go along with keeping them out of the library.  I am capable of making my own decision, my own choice as to whether to read it or not.  It it offends me, I’m not going to pick it up and read just because it’s there. And if it is to keep it out of the hands of children, you as a parent, as an adult, should be aware of what your children read (go with them to the library/bookstore) or watch (know in advance what’s on the television when your child is watching) and make that choice for them and them alone, not for everyone else.  To totally remove them from the shelves so no one else can make read them, denies that choice, that decision to others.  That is just wrong to me.

Teach your children your values and what you believe in so that they can and will eventually make their own smart choices about what to read or not to read. To take that choice away from the rest of us is not, what I think, our society should be about it.  And then to be offended because someone doesn’t believe in your cause, really come on now.

I do not believe in banning books.  No matter what the content.  We all have the right to choose whether we read it or not.  If not, you go on about your business.  If yes, then it is there for you to read.  In a place that offers all knowledge to everyone, the public library.

Personally I think what bothers a lot of people, and this is just my opinion, knowledge.  Knowledge is the keys to the kingdom.  Knowledge is freedom.  Some people do not like others having such freedom.  They’d rather have them unknowledgeable, uneducated, non free thinking  automatons.   But that’s just my opinion.  And everybody has the right to their own opions.

What I Learned this Week (To Be More Brazen)

This week was filled with lessons learned.

I am a quiet person by nature.  I sit back and observe for a bit and then gradually build up to be a part of the group or conversation.  This may have cost me dearly.  This part of who I am may have cost me an opportunity to know someone that I truly wanted to find out who they were.  An opportunity to see where, if anywhere knowing this person might lead.  I have never regretted anything in my life that I have done.  But this, this possible missed opportunity will be one that I will regret.  This being the most serious lesson learned this week. 

The others are small things.  Nothing important as the first lesson, but things I've learned about myself.

I need to be more brazen.  I need to step up and ask for, work for, seek out the things I want or need in my life. Or would like to have in my life.

I need to spend more time out in nature.  I come alive when I am out in nature.  I feel free.

I prefer small intimate dinner parties rather than going out to a bar.  I prefer a select few friends, diverse friends, so the conversation can be informative and lively, good food, and a good bottle of wine.

It's ok to cry when a wisp of a memory comes floating in out of nowhere.

This week was crammed with lessons.  I really hope next week won't have quite so many.

50 Shades of Gray (Erotic Fiction)

My whole office is reading and talking about this book, "50 Shades of Gray" by  E L James. It's the  New York Times #1 bestselling erotic fiction paperback and e-book. It is notable for its explicitly erotic scenes featuring elements of BDSM.  I now have a copy of this book and I am looking forward to reading it.  Not sure if it is my cup of tea, but....I have to know what all the fuss is about.......just being curious

Nature

Dear one,

Sometimes it's hard, isn't it? to see the beauty in things. Especially when things are collapsing, the soil is dry as bones, the cars zoomzoomzoom and make hovering black clouds that stick in our throats. How can we see beauty in skyscrapers and concrete? It was never meant to be this way. My heart aches for green grass and rainbows and fresh air. My body aches to be pure and healthy and taste fresh food instead of boxed and bagged. My spirit reaches out to a sky that has no tears, no refreshing and cleansing rain. What have we done, dear one? And how do we get it back?

The "Sometimes" Moments

Sometimes moments....the moments in my life when I wish things were different. 
Sometime I am so tired of being "the strong one".
Sometimes I want someone else to come home to other than myself.
Sometimes I want to cook for two not one.
Sometimes I want to spend a quiet evening with someone.
Sometimes I want to go out on a date.
Sometimes I want to make love to someone
Sometimes I want someone to make love to me
Sometimes I want someone to talk to
Sometimes I just want to go out with people because they just want to be with me, not because they think they are doing me a favor by getting me out of the house/
Sometimes I just want someone to spend time with
Sometimes I am so tired of being tired
Sometimes I want someone to take care of
Sometimes I want someone to take care of me
Sometimes I just want to hold someone's hand
Sometimes I just want to be held
Sometimes I want a lot of people around me
Sometimes I want what others have....a husband, a home, a family
Sometimes I wish I were stronger
Sometimes I wish I could sleep through the night
Sometimes I wish I could sleep through the night in someone's arms
Sometimes I wish I could just get away for a few days
Sometimes I just want to keep company with someone
Sometimes I wish I felt better than I do
Sometimes I wish I wasn't quite as old as I am
Sometimes I wish things were different.
Sometimes....................

My theme song

This is my new theme song........I know what I want, and I will go after it with all my heart and soul......I may not get what I want but at least I gave it a try......better to have tried for it then done nothing at all.....

this tightly stiched doll

this tightly stitched doll is coming apart at the seams, the cotton candy insides seep through the marionette strings. its carcass melts into the carpet, ribcage making concrete stalactites along the basement ceiling. itchy, twitchy butterfly wings escape the belly and float through the corridors. her blood seeps ruby waterfalls down the wallpaper and drip drips onto the floor. the house aches with her ragged breaths. tendon weeds crawl into floorboards and dancing spiders creep over windowpanes, their dusty eyelash cobwebs tangle in corners. shadows lurk behind shut doors; the shadows she's terrified of.

this poor insomniac doll.

she is tired and must rest.

the ghosts

the cheshire cat whispers to the shadows, its moon breath creeps through cracks in doors,
tip-toes across wooden floors, and dances across your sleeping face,
tangling its spider legs in your unruly hair.
i sleepwalk through the dark hallways, running my fingertips over the chipped walls,
mumbling a forgotten tune.
the ghosts with sharp teeth and bleeding eyes float along the floor, grabbing at my fractured ankles,
hoping for me to lose my footing and sink ever deeper into their sinister imprisonments,
where they will suck my blood and sew buttons into my eyes.

the water's edge

when i walk along the water, that's when i find that place i so desperately, want to call home. maybe it's that i fall under the zodiac water sign scorpio. who knows. maybe it's because when i come home to the water, i take photographs with my heart, and not only my eyes.

i believe the water is that calming, funky, place of solitude that takes me by the hand, and says, come on in, rest, relax your bones, or dance your ass off, if the mood hits you. : )

“women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves.” ― anne morrow lindbergh, gift from the sea

xoxo