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Out of the Shadows



I’d never felt a part of it, but always on the margin.

Never the exhalted one, just the silent watchman.

The center glowed with white, hot light.

Mine was cool and dark.

But now I’m growing,

Oh, so slowly

To overtake the night.





It’s Coming

The storm came on suddenly.

A bank of clouds steamrolling in from the West. Brewing like a witch’s cauldron, it changes from blue to green and blots out the sun.

Electricity slices across the sky and I see layers of clouds spinning counterclockwise above me.

Deafening thunder explodes…around me…through me…inside me. 

Its percussion hits then trails off into nothingness, taking my heartbeat with it. As the storm bears down, the wind switches directions and turns cold.

I smell rain.

A depression develops in the clouds, sucking the air from my lungs as it expands outward. The tip of a funnel cloud emerges from its center. Descending then pulling back…choosing where to land…deciding what to destroy.

Another funnel cloud forms and connects with the earth, turning the tornado brown.

It’s coming closer; stealthily crawling across the field.

Cowering in a ravine, I cling to the roots of the trees around me. Their tops twist wildly with the wind and send vibrations down through the trunk to shake me uncontrollably. Branches begin splintering apart and clumps of dirt hit me like bullets as the roots work their way free of the embankment.

My body becomes weightless and lifts into the air. My shoes are sucked from my feet and disappear. I hang on tightly; hugging the only anchor I have.

I’m being tossed about like a rag doll and I feel my bones snapping to pieces. 

The tornado’s vacuum is pulling me away to be destroyed just like the trees

… and roots

…and dirt.



The flower, in its boldness, refuses to turn its head from the sun. Never fearing the burning rays, the flower slowly follows the blazing orb across the sky, soaking up the heat that infuses vibrancy into its petals.

This delicate gift of nature absorbs the fire that gives life as easily as it destroys. Never wavering until it is ready to concede its own demise. Until that time it boldly challenges the sun with its own beauty.

I Love Coffee

Coffee, sweet coffee.

You are the breath that stokes my morning embers.

Light me up, baby, I’ve got a busy day!

Summer Sunrise

I sat alone, waiting patiently on top of a hill overlooking the valley.

Around me the rolling prairie rose and fell like giant waves abruptly frozen at high tide. Their emerald, olive and sage colored grasses sparkled like jewels under a thin blanket of dew and a downy fog had settled in the low-lying areas where leafy trees lined the banks of a creek. The songs of meadowlarks and blackbirds floated across the tops of the rushes and a cool morning breeze carried the scent of wild roses across the plain.

In the East, graduating shades of color were transforming the sky. The translucent, grey border that changed night into day marched slowly across the world, leaving a rainbow of colors in wide arcs behind it. First blue, then pink; orange, then yellow, catching each cloud and infusing it with color as they spread outward in a warm embrace of the Earth.

Then suddenly, from a single point on the horizon, a pure, white light shot across the land.

The sun.

Its flaming orange tip grew rapidly until the entire orb broke free of the Earth’s shadow and rose up to become king of the new day.

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