Every day
Is special
When you
Love.

When the sun begins its rise
And as it moves into view
Rising higher in the heavens,
It grows in its spectacular glow
And it sprinkles golden dust
On everything it touches.
It is a magical period in time,
This golden hour, which belongs
To the sun and its glorious rise
And is then gifted to us.

We are
As ancient forests
Petrified through time
Flesh traded for minerals
Minerals turned into stone
We stand firm with no life
Isolated in our inability
To reach one another
We stand together
Yet alone hardhearted

Time does not shape her,
For she holds it like threads in her hands,
Weaving moments, stitching hours,
Gathering days, weeks, months, years
Into centuries to be rolled out like fabric.

She makes her cloaks from the substance
Of time and wears ancient stardust in her hair.
She is old and she is new; time does not shape her.
Never allow it to shape you, folding you
Like some worn-out garment to be discarded.

While it is in your hands to do so, you shape time.

A mantra-

You are the wind in the willows and the reeds.
"I am the wind in the willow and the reeds."
You can bend and move with this power.
"I bend and move with this power."

Take in the energy that the sun generates
As it infuses all things with power from its Creator.
"My Creator gives me the strength for all things."

It will be your wings to rise above and fly,
In these evil times with evil deeds.
"Let this spirit be my wings to rise and fly above
These evil times and evil deeds."

Your mind is clear in your healing purpose.
You become strong in spirit to endure all things.
"Amen."

When a hummingbird flies
Its wings sing in flight,
Chattering as it moves,
Briefly settles, day or night.
They are tiny miracles.

When a hummingbird dies
Because its bones are so light
They disintegrate in a short time.
They truly are ephemeral things,
Brief beings on fluttering wings.

Words are powerful,
Kaboom!  Like a bomb
Going off.
Writers matter.
We the people.
Books change hearts,
(Those that are reachable)
Minds, lives, the zeitgeist,
And the future.  
That’s why,
Big men with tiny minds,
Have sleepless nights.
Authoritarians
Fear advocates & writers.