Like a drop of water,

In a bucket…

Like a small particle of dust

Upon the fan…

Like a stray hair

Upon your head…

Like the flake of paint

That chips from the wall…

Like a single button

On a keyboard…

Like a blade of grass

In a field…

Like a single jelly bean

In a jar…

Like a single wave

In the ocean…

A lie may seem small but in the end

It is the little things that add up to the larger s...

I want to live in the place where you can see sounds and smell sights. The beauty of being immersed in every sense. Red felt like love, blue feels like peace… Where is this place? It is in every painting, every photo taken, every breathe that is released. Breath in and exhale your wildest dreams....

Time and time again life told her,

All of her Energy spent trying to hear,

Sixteen years of trying to listen,

Sixteen years of being deaf,

Only to learn she need but to listen to herself,

That was the only lesson she ever needed to learn....

The birds crow a weeping melody, trees clean of leaves.

A turning of a page like the seasons tend to be.

They feel it coming long before.

Like people, the change is sensed before they heed.

If humans were in tune with nature like the birds.

They would never question how they read.

Emotions are like trees.

Steady but ever-changing.

Being in tune with oneself is all one really needs.

The birds...

The thin line between Happiness and Joy is translucent,

Barely felt by anyone really,

emotion felt by the one who possesses it can be mistaken for either.

Happiness does not always mean Joy,

Joy does not always mean one is Happy,

It is up to you to decipher.

That thin line is shared with so many more emotions,

One can mistake fright for anxiety,

Sad for overwhelmed, confusion as excitement...

Of all the things in the shop, Henry hated parting with this… He saw the lady pick up the small shiny trinket. He thought, “She can’t want to buy that.” He had wanted to buy it for his grandmother for months. He had saved $120 but that was just a drop in the bucket this piece was $500. His grandmother had told him a story about a small metal jewelry box she owned long before she had ever thought a...

To shroud oneself when the rain pours down is but human,

To clutch oneself tightly when the cold wind blows is but of man,

To feel the cold touch ones bones is to feel life,

To see beauty in the small things is ethereal,

These are the things that remind me daily that far from human is what I am…....