One last goodbye

I just had a lovely moment. Our eyes met. I blushed and looked down. This happened many times while he was talking to his friends sitting across from him on the train. I wondered at that time what kind of connection they might possibly have.

We were going in the same direction on the train. Would he get off at the same station? Who was this person? Half-asleep, my brain was a tangle of questions and possible answers.

The train slowly pulled up to the platform, and the station’s name was announced. He picked up his bags and the doors opened. I saw him wave to me as he exited the train. With a smile he mouthed a good-bye. From the windows I saw him stretch his hand out for one last wave. I copied his gesture and with a tired grin I also said good-bye.

This is one of the reasons I like to stay awake on the train even after a tiring day of work. Someone can touch your heart when you least expect it.

In that moment no one wanted to use me to practice their English. There were no words or exchange of conversation, but the intense feeling of curiosity and the happiness in the stolen glances.

I felt in love in that moment. I fell in love with that moment.


Thank you.

Cheers to all of the beautiful things and opportunities that surround me. Thank you so much for it all.
I smile at the clothes that are hanging from the line. I look down at the potato garden that is overgrown. I feel my lungs take in a breath while my heart beats away steadily. I have a lot to take in, and yet there are times I turn my face away from the beauty. I say no to what is happening in front of me today because of a bad mood or a cough. I say no to today because of social pressures and the stress I conjure up in my own head. I say no to today because of laziness and fear. I don’t want to say no anymore.

To take in each lovely moment and reply with,
thank you.

The Train Stories: The girl from the North


I dance with my cello.

It sways back and forth.

Just like the way I’d hold

The girl I met in the North.

I’d give her melodies of detail.

My fingers that jump along frets.

I gave them to her to hold.

It was the letting go I regret.

So today I use this bow.

To someday play you back.

I now write songs of white,

Instead of those I had painted black.

Poetry in junk drawers


I don’t write poetry these days, but recently I dug through our junk drawers and found a lot of my old stuff.


Lie on the floor

Reach to the sky

Pray to heaven

To let you fly


Watch my back

Heal my pain

Trying to live

While staying sane


Stopping the morning

Endure the hurt

Hold on to your chest

Fell the heart burn


Flip the pages

Learn your new things

Hopscotch on words

Let your mind breath


Come to a block

Break right through

Because you don’t have

Anything better to do

My first and last limerick

DSCF1176My first and last limerick from 2010. I am looking through my old poetry and I smile as I recollect the feelings I had while writing them. What amazes me is that my mindset is still the same. I am still very much the same timid girl today as I was then. I still deal with doubt and feelings of uncertainty.

This was one of the few poems that had a positive feel to it. I enjoyed re-discovering it and hope you will enjoy reading it.

My First Limerick

There once was a girl who thought

A pretty face she surely was not

Always envied the faces around

Then looked in the mirror and found

She always had the beauty she sought