Shell cast up on sea shore
holds the first songs,
breathes the first words,
a mother said to her child.
They are lost in the silence.

Beach combers look for
flotsam and jetsam.
Teenagers with earbuds,
and old men listening for
lost beloved voices.

living forest breathes
it’s the life of our planet
the mother of all

Kindness
was a house.

Knitted by
knowing you.

It was made
of sticky notes.

Encouragement
aching for actions.

Friendship
is the fuel.

Hearts only
in its windows.

Looks didn’t
really matter.

A firm foundation
invisible.

Gates of wisdom
walk to it.

Depression
laughed at it.

Gossip galloped
away from it.

The golden rule
knew better.

The Starlings
outside my window
sing a song
of no regret.
There is snow
on the ground
and little food
to be found,
but it's okay
because today
the sun is out
and the sky
is clear.
It's very warm
for this time of year,
and if the theosophy
doesn't blind me
I know I'll find me
a weapon to use
to fight these blues.