Will you come?

There is a place where black-top ends

Where hills can roll and clouds descend.

There is a place where sounds relax

Where warmth is found and laughter passed.

There is a place to hide from wind

Where friends arrive and smiles begin.

There is a place where time can wade
Where fear can melt and daylight fade.

What are the colors of pain? Hopelessness? Grief?

In trying to understand my life lived in dirty nurse scrubs in an ICU....I write a lot.  There are so many things to say and not many places to say them....as in most careers a lot happens we just don't say.  Here is my way of trying to describe the colors of pain, hopelessness, and grief.  

Old.

Cold.

Turning white.

Quiet.

Diet.

Turning yellow.

Despair.

Repair.

Turning red.

Sleep.

Repeat.

Turning, twisting, raging, blue.

Task.

Mask.

Turning around.

My favorite poet

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins
And there the grass grows soft and white
And there the sun burns crimson bright
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
And watch where the chalk white arrows go
To the place where the side walk ends

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go
For the children, they mark and the children they know
The place where the side-walk ends.
                                   -Shel Silverstein

Walk me under summer 's sun.
Talk me into courage over fear.
Take me safely inside.
Walk me through, there are so many ways I depend on you.

Today

Maybe it’s the sweet, soft pink of winter

Or the light, pearl grey of hope.

Or the dark, cool green of pine.

But today I wish you were mine.

Winding Light

Light

Sliding, slipping, and skipping through leaves of my trees

It casts shadows I haven’t send for a year-they appear to tell me winter is near

Its light digs deep and dark along the backyard; places where the sun used to spill everywhere

I watch green, yellow, and red.

As each falls I turn my head, because I have heard it said, “snow is up ahead.”

Gliding shafts of summer sun chilled by earth’s early morning dew

Heat grown still on shots of cold, it is the only to hear instructions of when and how…

The light is changing and my mind is rearranging

Winding around the oak, pine, and spruce

Waiting for what only the purest light can produce:

the deepening shadows,

the glowing afternoon,

and the lingering moon.

Sometimes

Sometimes in hard times I need a smile

Sometimes in hard times I want you

Sometimes in hard times I want more

Sometimes in hard times I don’t see truth

Sometimes in hard times I don’t need anyone

Sometimes in hard times I see glory

Sometimes in hard times I see pain

Sometimes in hard times I seek honor

Sometimes in hard times I hide

Sometimes in hard times I need truth

Sometimes in hard times I come away changed

Sometimes in hard times I want something better

Sometimes in hard times the grass is greener far away

Sometimes in hard times it seems that is all life is…