He loves me ... he loves me not

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.

 It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can not pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead. His eyes are closed. ~ Albert Einstein

Jade River

My beautiful blue eyed son

Taken by the waters of March

October 10, 1996 -  March 8, 2008

                                                                

ALONE  I walked the ocean strand;

   A pearly shell was in my hand:

  I stooped and wrote upon the sand

 My name—the year—the day.

  As onward from the spot I passed, 

  One lingering look behind I cast;

  A wave came rolling high and fast,

And washed my lines away.

And so, methought, ’t will shortly be

With every mark on earth from me: 

A wave of dark oblivion’s sea

Will sweep across the place

Where I have trod the sandy shore

Of time, and been, to be no more,

 Of me—my day—the name I bore, 

To leave nor track nor trace.

And yet, with Him who counts the sands

And holds the waters in his hands,

I know a lasting record stands

Inscribed against my name, 

Of all this mortal part has wrought,

Of all this thinking soul has thought,

And from these fleeting moments caught

For glory or for shame. 

~ By Hannah Flagg Gould

The Big City Winter Wonderland

The Big City Winter Wonderland

Body shaking, heart is racing; 

happiness all around.

She woke up to a new world with swift streets and elderly buildings 

covered in snow from the sky to the ground.

Looking up…

gloomy white, like the nights staring at her ceiling

dreaming of happiness and wondering where it could be found? 

She hears hearts beating, and the beautiful melody of the city

forcing her to simply follow the sounds.

Walking the streets of her new life, 

making sure she makes every second last…

as her surrounding reminds her of holidays already past.

Trees of green covered in gorgeous white, 

Like darkened hours brightened by all the beautiful lights.

Everyone walking by wearing rosy red cheeks 

with hearts upon their sleeves to match perfectly.

Ready for anything, ready for the world to see.

People jumping puddles of water, 

like stepping over tears of their pasts.

Moving on, 

Until landing onto the slushy sidewalk, 

like approaching a new marvelous mess.

Without a care, 

because they say this is where dreams come true.

She believes them…

ready for the snowflakes to coat her body until she’s stationary.

No sun could melt away what this winter wonderland has created, 

nothing will stop her from this ripened dream.

...sometimes things are actually what they seem, 

And this is wonderful. 

~Michael Biondi 

The further I go, The less I know
The less I know...