“Birds of a feather flock together”

The old saying goes,

But I fly solo

Not knowing where my flock lies.

Is it true we all find our flock someday?

Keep myself busy doing things I love to do,

But still go on hoping for someone

Who can see me as I am and understand

The lines between the lines.

Flying solo and doing just fine

Just hoping to find some feathers

That will lead me home.


Doorway to the unknown,

I turn the doorknob with trembling fingers,

Dreams to realize,

My heart in need of trusting,

Walking into a new life

Woven in my mind for many years,

I continue to walk,

View all that is around me,

My accomplishments, setbacks, and joys

And my spirit is renewed.


On the days when hospitality seems to be forgotten

by those I meet through out the day,

When my emotions have been covered by inches of snow

for many days, maybe more,

I  go for a long walk in the park.

Birds chirping, sun shining,

I remind myself of all that is good in the world.

It is in nature where I am recharged

and am able to plug into that part of me where quiet resides.

It is then, when I can go home uncover the layers of snow,

and write of all that has been unsaid,

all that has been uncovered,

all that has been laid bare.





Inspired by….

RDP Tuesday: Snow

Word of the day challenge : Hospitality




Maybe it was genetic or maybe it was a curse given to an ancestor and passed down generation after generation . But he , like his father, could see things “abstractly” as his Dad would say. Like seeing things upside down in a crystal ball, he could see thru emotions and lies. But he saw things he didn’t want to see. The game of life did not come easy to him. Until one Friday night, when he chose to see it as a gift, to see life as a gift. After that night the world seemed different, more colorful and  glorious, and he was at peace.






Ragtime Daily Prompts: friday

Daily Writing Challenge: top photo

Friday Fictioneers: bottom above, by Jeff Arnold

fandango’s fowc : abstract