In Memoriam

The only syllables I can muster

Are wishes.


That you had a happy life with us

That you knew you were loved with us

That you had enough of everything

Dog biscuits, kisses, walks, sunshine, grassy naps


That we could know we did everything

Gave you everything

Did all the right things by you.

Wishes for more heartbeats

But there could never be enough…


Spent with you.

So now I send my wishes

To the sky,

To the stars,

To you.

Rest now, my little prince.




O, Captain…

Sometimes I think the world is just too much for those sensitive, empathetic souls in our midst, and they opt leave us quietly, when they have given all they can give.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

~Walt Whitman, “Leaves of Grass”

Robin Williams 1954-2014

Robin Williams

Free bird.

This is the first thing I ever read by Maya Angelou.  I came across it when I was a teenager and it left such a profound mark on my heart.  I wanted to someday write something as universally beautiful as this, and I still do.  Whether I will or not, is not yet known.  But because of Maya, I know that it is possible to create something this moving simply by the meticulous crafting of words…rest in peace, Maya.

I know why the caged bird sings ~Maya Angelou
A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange sun’s rays
And dares to claim the sky.But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.