All we have is Now — We go through our days flying through our moments, which are more valuable than anything anyone can give you, or anything you can trade. There is nothing more miraculous than this now. Here is a home for our nowisms in words. Here is a place we can turn the gift…

I’d like to turn this into a poem, so I can dance between the spaces instead, because after four decades on the planet, I still don’t know how to define myself in words. So, here I go. Jenny, the loving? Jenny, the changer? Jenny, the encourager? Jenny, the artist? I…

Please create your heart letters to humanity today, dear one — In the hope of Spring, letters pour from me like the notes of her symphony. Even if my legs cannot dance as they once could, or run, or jump into the day of sun to come — my fingers will arrange these letters into the dance of my being. The…

For G 💜 — For G 💜 To hear the wind once dancing upon your lips, kiss the windchimes. Breezing love in sound to my day. To see you sitting across in your chair here, the one always waiting for your fine self. Joying sensuality in being to my day. To touch the hands…

Jenny Lane with the navy ringed grey eyes — One letter away from being a Beatles song. “Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes, there beneath the blue Suburban skies” ~ Penny Lane, Beatles My parents never could agree on much, except for the Beatles, and are two of the most stubborn people I’ve ever encountered…

In this Nowism, am still a little sad and angry. Sangry. Please check your meter toggle, my friends. To protect my wellness and my words this month, I decided to stay away from checking my stats, until today. I really didn’t want any number affecting my writing, or mindset. But…

Showers of diamonds, two carat sized, explode across the kitchen. They’re in my hair, they’re on the floor, they’re in the food. All in slow motion, as I am preparing dinner for the night. They cast their light all about the room and tink tink tink on every surface. …

The Sun is still a child waiting for another revolution. Reaching out her rays of love for new days, new moments, new ways. The Sun is still a child waiting for another revolution. Meditating upon her sister Earth, while she rests in the night dreaming of new days, new moments…

Kintsugi of life —