I see people
who wax and wane,
who are once kind, but then come to doubt themselves.
Perhaps there is no such thing as Love.
But, if there is, it comes and leaves souls untouched. Gentle thing?

I imagine people go entire lives without warmth, who were shunted so, so as to subsist on merry blows.

Would a loving God clapse her hands down in Law? Be there some poor chap who fits the bill, t’would be one who is the master of none.

Retribution is a troubling thing.

When sophie gets older;
I want to be seen as her
mother, a guide,
friend and teacher
in Life not here to
restrain and stop her
doing the things she loves
but there will be some
guidelines to keep
her safe; I want her to learn
and keep moving forward when
she makes mistakes
something I've always
found tough also  learn to clean
and cook her own meals
so she can be independent
and fend for herself when
Life gets rough;

I sang into the wind
As I stood on the hill
Looking down
Into, across, over
The places I’ve lived
Worked, learned, slept
Were all down there
Somewhere in the valley
And my voice left my throat
And floated off with the wind
Across all my homes
Across my life
And I realized I could see it all
Right there in front of me
And I didn’t know what to do
With that realization
So I kept singing
Into the wind

once gifted with
true kindness and compassion
i learned love.

a sparkle in your eye
a baby girl's cry

how's she going to spend
the rest of her life?

reaching for perfection
fixing her complexion
and sense of direction

dodging
society's inspections

her father's aggression
her mother's traditional-housewife obsession

trying to escape their
suffocating protection

became an adult
run away across the country
for a new angle of reflection

trying to forget
trying to have no recollection
of their projections
on her own perceptions

learn who she is
over and over again

question question question

she's spending time making
connections between
the past and the present