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

angel

  • Let it exist, let it

    I came from Oklahoma: not a caricature of dust and drawl, not a name stitched to a stereotype, but a person shaped by open skies, by long roads, by the quiet dignity of knowing who I am I speak with the education life required of me, with words gathered carefully, because some feelings deserve more… Read more

  • Mysteries of the sea

    The wind, the waves, the gulls;they all know who she is.The ships along the shore, the vessels in the harbor, all fall silent in awe They watch her, but dare not disturb her, at her presence, they bow in reverence She is the oneShe is the trueShe is keeper of the wind and sea,the thrill… Read more

  • Grace 444

    The light settles low over the grass, warm as a hand laid easy on a tired shoulder Wind moves through the field in a slow, plain way, carrying the scent of dust, wild bloom, and summer heat She lies still as if the earth itself has made room for her rest Nothing asks for hurry… 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

  • heart, life,

    She stands in the hush before thought becomes breath, her presence gathered from shadow, warmth, and stillness The water holds her like a private hymn; reeds, dusk, and weathered light keep their distance, as here is something old in her composure Something Gothic in the way silence clings to her, although the air around her… Read more