To life.
What a wonder to awaken each morning. Blue or gray, the sky's always around. And the sun. And whoever in whose eyes you're reflected, so you can see for yourself that yes, you're alive. And even better, that you're living.
Dad was 85 and I was 59 when I lost him. Not bad as these things go. For most folks, the condolence - delivered or un- - would be, “Well, you did have him for a good, long time.” And of course my response - delivered or un- -
When I was a kid, there was a pretty little popular song called “Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries.” I was just young enough when I first heard it not to really know what that meant. But the image it conjured up still resonates with me. I don't...
William Wordsworth is one of my literary heroes. Love the guy. Bet you didn't think you'd be reading that today, right? Wordsworth has been there for me whenever I've been pressed to frame a beautifully compelling or compellingly beautiful thought and my own words didn't seem up to the task (alas, too frequently). How often I've found my voice in the gorgeous poetry crafted by this man, whose very name says it all. Sort of like calling in a pinch...