Sometimes
words
are
all
you
need.


Other
times
melody,
or
silence;
perhaps
tears.


But no one
can
live
without
the
magic
of
touch.

known by her smile

smiles are contagious said winnie the pooh.

a million ping pong balls playing musical chairs 'til a whole new song is played.
bouncing. all over the place. ants in the pants.
dylan's inspiration from dust bowl troubadour, woodie guthrie.
johnny's hum between the verses in walk the line.  
my dentist will never be cool, but if you can forgive him for trying, his hokiness charms.
a country song i never wanted to know the meaning of.
cotton ball towers in the sky.
we've been so wasted, it's written all over our faces.
excited talk of a boat rounding a curve in a river. the band finally comes to town in a week.

the song coming from my soul

Find all that is true. Write out the words. Speak them. Listen for the joy in their tune.(Come on, you can pull out a melody; sing it.) Practice every day until your heart's caught on.(Harmony is your favorite part.)

As we zip by...

I've snapped countless photos out my passenger side window throughout these last six years. We are usually traveling to or from a doctor office or a special treatment or a blood test. Rarer are those times we've been able to extend our energies to travel to a friend or relative's home. What I'm trying to say, is that when we are in the car we are always on a mission. I guess that happens quite often to healthy people, too. Rarely, do we let ourselves stop along the way to capture in photo and memory a piece of the beauty that is around us. (Although my family knows that I'm the first one to want to.) This person stopped. He walked to the top of a hill. As I snapped this picture of him, I smiled. A kindred spirit. Someone who breathes in, looks, sees, and knows that we are in a good place.

It had not made at all the same impression on him

as on the Cabby and the children. For what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are.
Magician's Nephew C.S. Lewis

It's Monday and I'm trying to not walk this same ol' path.

(Beware of circle.)