Some

Something shattered into pieces, Someone crushed them under foot. Somewhere the scattered pieces lay, Somewhen, long overlooked. Somewhen, an artist found them, Somehow he scooped them up; Someone loved with tender hands Something I had given up. Something forms beneath the artist’s touch: Mosaic full of grace. Someone else would never think to make Beauty …

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Desert Mornings

Early morning is my favorite time of day in the desert. You can smell the sagebrush and rabbitbrush, the tiniest hint of moisture, and absorb the quiet and stillness. We live in a house with an established yard and big shade trees, but it’s still in the desert. I love to look out the window …

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