Little bird

Little bird, singing praises

Outside my windowsill

Rising warm sun on the horizon

Reminding me, God loves me still

When I feel lonely or discouraged Feel abandoned or unsure

I turn my vision to the only

Source of comfort; Love that’s pure


Trusting myself to breathe

Is easier said than done

When a smooth cool hand

Embraces mine tenderly

No possession, a unity

An air of belonging

That tingles my sense of elation

Turns the volume up

In the world once void of sound

Concurrently, my focus is absorbed

With being in the moment

Alive, unfettered, freely expressing

Anticipating the next breath

With a reciprocal agreement

A bonding of lungs and air

I didn’t realize I needed

The Hourglass

My dead are buried here

Cycling the winds of change

Filling my hourglass with the sands

of moments spent with true hearts

moments charged with life’s passing

Experience dictating lessons

of community

of unity

of vision

A tribal pulse weaving roots

deep into the soil of my hearth

fashioning the cloak of enduring life

a version of immortality

told in legends measured by grains

creating a life worth living