Thursday, July 26, 2007

Rouvalle

He looks almost as good as I do.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

It is summer even when it rains

Study the map.



How do we get down there?



Define fun.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Trust



What could be better, than sitting close to the fire, with your only daughter, while she tightly holds your sleeve?

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

I wish



Wind Daughter by Eileen Curteis

She stood there, a small shred of a thing
as the wind tore into her without mercy.
“Oh Mother Wind,” she cried,
“in the heart of a sobbing tree
You bring rain upon me.”
“I do that,” she said,
“for without this burden
how else can the torn face
of a rag doll get ripped?”

“But Mother Wind,” I cried,
“I want to be real! Make me real!”
“Suffering will make you real,” she said.
“Just listen to the harsh voice
of a howling wind
and know you can’t always
stop the hand that hits you, not always.”

“I love you, Mother Wind,” I said,
“but you tug hard
at the roots of my knotted hair
and like the slit of a cold knife
going into me
it hurts where you enter.”
“Yes, my child,” she said.
“It hurts where I enter.
Pain always hurts.”

Grief knew no words
And I was silent before her.
“Wind daughter,” she said, “you are real.
This last ache has made you real.
Go no to the others.”