Seeing through the eyes of others

poetry and writings based on the truth of life. Everyone sees through their own lenses. Trade glasses with someone else and view your world…and theirs. I write personal, I write upon request and not limited to one area, genre, or style

afraid

  • Seed, Fire, Hammer

    Words and phrases are not just sounds rolling off our tongues. It is seed, fire, and a hammer. Depending on how we use it, it can grow a field, warm a home, or burn down something that took years to build. We have become too comfortable saying, “I was just joking,” “That’s just how I… Read more

  • Open your heart

    I think stepping forward frightens people because it means leaving behind the things they know, even when those things have already finished their work in their lives Familiar things have a way of holding on to us all. Sometimes people live on old memories as though they are enough to carry them through the cold,… Read more

  • She counted the days, the hours, the weeks, the months, perhaps even the yearsShe sat before the mirror, studying her own reflection, yet the happiness she had expected was nowhere to be found. The joy, the esteem, the glory, the honor; none of it stirred within her. As a bride to be, she felt only… Read more

  • Shock pvt reply

    When someone you love dies, your whole world tilts in a single moment.One minute you’re doing ordinary things… talking, working, running errands, feeling more or less steady. Then the phone rings, or a message pops up, and everything inside you changes. It’s like the floor drops out from under you. Before that moment, your nervous… Read more

  • Per aspera ad astra

    Per aspera ad astra, I whisper to the rearview mirror as the road lifts me out of New Brunswick past trees that remember more of me than I will admit or the river holds my older names without asking me to stay boxes shift softly like unfinished thoughts in the back seat as I am… Read more

  • Even

    The chair once occupiednow sits empty, alonekept company only by flowersand a flickering candle. Quills lie abandoned in their baskets,their stories unfinished. The mirror, once alivewith dress fittings, careful hands,and reflections of quiet beauty,now offers nothing backonly a hollow, singular stare. There is an ache in losing everythingthat most will never know,but for the hundreds… Read more

  • Age, loneliness, empty

    Loneliness is a promise the heart made and no one answered. It settles quietly, waiting for a voice to meet it in the spaces between old conversations, in the wind crossing a cold, gray field The horizon presses flat against the earth, wide enough to make a person disappear.Seasons pass without asking, carrying off small… Read more

  • human trafficking…. oh to be honest

    Trapped in silence, with only the white noise pressing in around her, she had no way to escape what was happening. She was locked away, abused, hurt, and destroyed, hidden from view while human trafficking took its toll on her mind, body, and spirit. She was treated like something to be used and discarded, made… Read more

  • Traffick with no stop signs

    It is a cruel world, and not in some distant, abstract way people like to talk about when they want to feel thoughtful but untouched. I mean here.I mean now. I mean the roads you drive, the towns you trust, the places with familiar names that are supposed to mean safety. Because somewhere between Hartland… Read more

  • is no more

    I carry the sound of vanished roomsthe warmth of tables I cannot return toand the names that still live softly in my mind I walk through the day with a broken lightas if every step is a question and every silence is listening back There is no map for this kind of ache only the… Read more