Picking and pecking

cawing and screeching

ominous yet stunning

Dances and twirls

Walks and wanders

Explores and watches

She’s an anomaly

Her presence ambiguous

Is she a warning or an enticement?...

When I was a child I danced in the rain

When I was a child I ran in the rain

When I was a child I played in the rain

When I was a child I laughed in the rain

I look at the rain falling

Through the windshield of my car

I wipe it away,

Like an inconvenience

I bemoan its presence

I’ve forgotten the joys

It once brought me

I no longer dance in the rain

I no longer run in the rain

I no longer pla...

i fly

like the birds over the fields

i’m free with Your spirit

You are my protection

my light

the true wisdom

You plant flowers in my field

in You

i am healed

You lift up my spirit

take away my limits

i am about to take flight

for God

for me

Angels fight

fr...

I carry my umbrella with me everywhere,

in my hand, in my bag, attached to my hip.

Is it an accessory?

A utility?

A burden?

Every day I take it with me, just in case.

Even though the forecast predicts clear skies,

with you there’s always a chance of rain....

I felt the wind blow through my hair as I landed in the vast field of wildflowers and grass. The long strands tickled my calves and ankles. My wings instantly transformed back into my umbrella, some of my feathers slowly falling in the process. My hands shook as I tried to gain some sense of composure. The weather was solemn, few rays of sunlight showed through the dense collection of clouds, refl...

The escape from noise

was her request

to leave all things still

her behest

to protect her mind

from all the lies

and mess

to find comfort

in solemn fields

where no strangers

tread...

They say Mary Poppins is the only one who can fly with an umbrella.

But I guess she’s not the only one with the magic after all.

———

The umbrella didn’t stand out in any possible way. It was black, with a plain curved handle, the kind you’d see hanging by the door on rainy days.

There was nothing special about it; no spark, no markings—nothing. In fact, it was so ordinary, people looked past ...

Dust. I was waiting for the rain, but it doesn’t come. I know how to dance in the rain. I don’t know how to dance in the dust....

As I’m getting ready for bed I take a look in the mirror,

the bathroom light reflecting in my eyes as the dark circles beneath them starts to become clearer,

In my room I steare at my desk, trying to draw away my attention from the workload of paper files that lays in front of my eyes,

In bed all my thoughts resembles and reminds me of my work I’m behind in. They cannot be silenced nor ignored...

Raining, water drops on my head

Make sure you have your umbrella they said

To be safe today my umbrella is in my bag

The weather man said it might rain, that hag

Not a drop of water

Just the rising sun...