I remember the song I sang when I was a little girl. The lyrics were, “There’s a hole in the bucket, Dear Liza, Dear Liza” and the female...

To die is to fly Is To be free again From death to birth and back again Graceful rhythm of nature abound To feel this life graceful and...

Legend tells us that the hummingbird floats free of time. Moving in a continuous blurry pattern of a figure eight, they carry our hopes...

It has been 18 hours since the last time I slept to dream In my awake life I stutter to make sense The constant stream of dead men...

I have known her a long time. A dear friend to me, she has shouldered my pain when I needed a resting place. She has an enchanting kind...