My Wish for You


A setting sun that paints a tie-dyed sky
A feather bed, an ancient lullaby
A kiss good night from one whose love is true
That’s the kind of day I wish for you

A field of flowers dancing in the spring
A little creek, a tree, an old rope swing
Cotton candy clouds against the blue
That’s the kind of day I wish for you

First love with all its storm
Raging like fire within
Tossing your heart to chance
You swear the dance will never end

But then it does and someone says goodbye
And after all those empty nights you cried
The morning that you wake up good as new
That’s the kind of day I wish for you

The faith of knowing deep inside your heart
That heaven holds more than just some stars
Someone’s up there watching over you
That’s the kind of day I wish for you
~ Faith Hill


We are all storytellers, from our first garbled words of mud and slugs to our last struggle to shape the words I love you in the holy cave of our mouths. “How was school?” our mother asked, and we told a story, and “who are you?” our lovers asked, and we told a story… an ancient shape of something true, something that twists up through tragedy and confusion, something true in and of all of us, something that makes us occasionally, haltingly, holy… We are stories told in the brief light between great darknesses.

~ Brian Doyle

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

The Choice



If you want a bitter
seedless life,
just keep identifying your
self as victim.
Just keep
blaming others
for your circumstance.
But if you want your
heart to melt into
the impeccable splendor
of the golden sun
and illuminate the earth
with courage,
take off the cloak
of your old story.
Step naked
through the portal
of the present moment
into a kingdom
where darkness sparkles
and silence sings,
because there is
no judgment,
and fear is swallowed up
in Love.

~ Alfred K. Lamotte