Tell me oh God, what a beautiful world you have made? Have you made it for me? It sure does seem like it, when You have given me so much. I love walking to school even by myself. While I know I could ride with dad, or mom, and my little brother, I always preferred to walk. Walking, even alone, seem’s so fun. Is this normal? My eye’s fly over the ground, and I imagine I am a bird, or maybe in a plane flying along. Small cracks in the ground look like canyon’s, small grasses lo

Running down that rugged path, straight as it may be, granted by the time’s we live in, make it anything but smooth, difficult it is to keep your eye on the goal, when there are so many obstacles, loose rocks, slippery spots, and uneven terrane to watch out for, less you may fall. Not so difficult as one might find, considering the majesty of light that plays out in symphonic rhythm’s before me. No, any difficulty lies in the yet developing strength and skill my leg’s must mu

Always close by is her small cloth doll, the same small cloth doll placed in her bed by the most loving of mothers upon the day of her glorious birth. Children hold close to them such precious things of comfort, gripped in perfect little fingers as they sleep, softly pulling it close to that place of tenderness lying between their face and heart. Her fingers play across the tag that rest’s softly on the doll, just up on it’s back, near the very place she hold’s so close to he

Once said bully is spotted, or at least finds himself within striking range one of two responses for the would be victim must follow; The first either, “Turn and Run”. Turning represents a physical changing direction from the path in which one has been set. When a person turns their back on something, it becomes difficult, if not impossible, to see it, thus the person becomes blind to everything that lies down that particular path they were on only moments before. Turning one

The swirling cyclonic looking thing that strangely appear’s like a smaller representation of a hurricane, in this some kind of areal distant view in my minds eye, gives it’s ominous representation within the remaining shadowed recesses of my soul. It grant’s a little remaining emotional tug to just turn and run, for not long ago was the time when such approaching dread was enough to send this child scurrying for any dark cave possible. “Run and hide” was the sirens call, as I