Monday, December 17, 2012

Heart Murmurs

Heart Murmurs 
I see you there
Behind the mask you wear
The heart that yearns
The fire that burns
The way you hide
Behind walls of pride 
An ache in the heart
Words left unsaid
Desires unspoken
Tears unshed 
A road untraveled
Paths not taken
Destiny within reach
And yet forsaken 
Light shines from within
A glimmer of hope
Wishes and wants
Twine together like rope
Time is moving
Fluid as the sea
Destiny whispers
“Remember me?” 
Open your eyes
Look with your heart
The path is before you
You’ve only to start 
One foot and then the other
Round bends and over hills
A bump here, a rock there
But your tread never stills 
Hope shines brighter
As paths intersect
And you see the one
You did not expect
This is an original work by me. If you intend to share, please link back to my blog for proper credit.


Sunday, February 19, 2012

Wordsmith defines wordsmith as: an expert in the use of words. Whenever I read Edith Wharton's The Age Of Innocence, I am once again delighted by her proficient use of words, her turn of language, her subtle use of well-placed descriptions that create a sharply vivid picture in the mind of the reader. In my opinion, she was a master wordsmith.

Let me share a few of my favorite passages with you.

He bent and laid his lips on her hands, which were cold and lifeless. She drew them away, and he turned to the door, found his coat and hat under the faint gaslight of the hall, and plunged out into the winter night bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate.

"Oh presently - let's run a race first: my feet are freezing to the ground," she cried; and gathering up the (red) cloak she fled away across the snow, the dog leaping about her with challenging barks. For a moment, Archer stood watching, his gaze delighted by the flash of the red meteor against the snow; then he started after her, and they met, panting and laughing, at a wicket that led into the park.

The white glitter of the trees filled the air with its own mysterious brightness, and as they walked on over the snow the ground seemed to sing under their feet.

He stared at her, groping in a blackness through which a single arrow of light tore its blinding way.

He had her in his arms, her face like a wet flower at his lips, and all their vain terrors shrivelling up like ghosts at sunrise. The one thing that astonished him now was that he should have stood for five minutes arguing with her across the width of the room, when just touching her made everything so simple.

He turned away with a sense of utter weariness. He felt as though he had been struggling for hours up the face of a steep precipice, and now, just as he had fought his way to the top, his hold had given way and he was pitching down headlong into darkness.

"Darling!" Archer said - and suddenly the same black abyss yawned before him and he felt himself sinking into it, deeper and deeper, while his voice rambled on smoothly and cheerfully. "Yes, of course I thought I'd lost the ring; no wedding would be complete if the poor devil of a bridegroom didn't go through that. But you did keep me waiting, you know! I had time to think of every horror that might possibly happen."

There was something about the luxury of the Welland house and the density of the Welland atmosphere, so charged with minute observances and exactions, that always stole into his system like a narcotic. The heavy carpets, the watchful servants, the perpetually reminding tick of the disciplined clocks, the perpetually renewed stack of cards and invitations on the hall table, the whole chain of tyrannical trifles binding one hour to the next, and each member of the household to all the others, made any less systematised and affluent existence seem unreal and precarious. But now it was the Welland house, and the life he was expected to lead in it, that had become unreal and irrelevant, and the brief scene on the shore, when he had stood irresolute, half-way down the bank, was as close to him as the blood in his veins.

All the beauty that had forsaken her face seemed to have taken refuge in the long pale fingers and faintly dimpled knuckles on his sleeve, and he said to himself: "If it were only to see her hand again I should have to follow her --."

--all passages taken from The Age Of Innocence by Edith Wharton

Monday, January 2, 2012



Afraid of the dark, I plumb the depths
Seeking peace, seeking rest
From the demons that laugh
As they dance on my wounded heart
I am shattered, the pieces scattered
I claw the ground, howl at the sky
Only one question…why? 

If the darkest hour is just before dawn
My night is endless.
The wait for the sun is torture
I shake the bed with my sobs
Wet the pillow with my tears
Muffle the screams of agony so no one hears 

I’m dying
What else could this be?
The dark is coming down like a stone
The heavy curtain of it buries me 

Light comes in
Pulsing and warm
Little by little it fills me
A shelter in my storm 

A gentle voice whispers to me
You can do this…I am with you
The Light lives
The Light breathes
He breaks through the pain
Banishes the dark as the sun begins to rise 

I am weak, basking in the Light to gain my strength
He takes my hand and says, Stand
I shake and tremble, hesitate and flounder
He keeps my hand in His and speaks again

I am weak, but He is strong
With my hand in His, I lift myself up
A baby finding her balance
Holding tight to Daddy’s hand 

After awhile, He speaks again.
Again I tremble, again I am afraid
I can’t.
Yes, He says. You can. Walk.
One foot, and then the other
I’m doing it! I say
Yes, He answers. I knew you could. 

Suddenly His hand is gone from mine
I flounder once more, reaching out into the void
Don’t be afraid, comes His voice. I will never leave you.
One foot, and then the other and I keep going
And His voice comes again.

The fear reaches out with sticky fingers
You’ll fall, it says. Better just stick with what you know.
Trembling, I falter and wonder what will happen if I fall.
And His voice comes softly, once more
You can do this. Run. 

One step, and then another
Faster, and then faster
The laughter comes, and with it tears
I’m doing it!
I know, He says. I knew you could. 

Running like the wind now
Looking straight ahead
No stopping, no going back
And one more time I hear His voice 

It is time, He says.
My feet leave the ground
Joy unimaginable!
And I soar.

Author's note: This is an original work by me. If you would like to share it, please link back to my blog for proper credit. Thanks!