And the journey begins

What can we even say?
We first witnessed your life in a photograph, colorless, still.
But as your heart races to us, as you grow into us, we will be here waiting each day for you.
For you are the epitome of what our lives have wanted, what our minds have wondered.
What can we even say?
We'll tell you when you get here.

The Hard Thing

Why is it that something other than the best of us can so easily get the best of us?
The ability to do so is so much better when we are able to squeeze any good from it.
The ease of which we can take it, turn it, give it back in its most horrific form -- it's something.

Why is it that the best of us can so easily turn into the worst of what we can be?
It's sadness. It's pain. It's possessive.
It's because we let ourselves. It's the easy thing to do.

But how often should we judge anything by the ease of which it comes?
Perhaps, it is the difficulty we should prize.
Grasping at the challenge, the gleaming, tauntingly visible obstacle.
Shouldn't that be the motive?
To take and twist any of the bad into something beautiful on the other end.

And maybe spread a pinch of even a memory of sunshine onto a poor soul who needs something to remember.
Perhaps maybe that can help light a path for wherever they were headed to begin with.
After all, the ease of which we can turn a smooth surface into a jagged, stone-filled quest
can be kept a guided trail by the mere decision to hold back judgment on anything we would hate to be judged for.

"Slept high up in the Rockies..."

The spirals in the creek float to the edge only to disappear to reappear as new ones downstream.
The sound of the small rapid helps define the peace found here.
Hidden below the snow capped peaks, the water strolls through the meadow, icy cold -- a perfect reminder that it may be summer, but winter is never too far away.
As the elk stroll across the land that is proudly theirs, we take advantage of their generosity and soak in every drop of serenity.

Left or Right?

Staring across the range

from who knows how many feet high,

sitting in the window seat.

But I'm distracted by the pinnacle.

A career turn ahead,

I'm sitting in the drivers seat.

Heavily it rests on my mind

already pulled thin at times.

I am strong.

Thankful she is stronger.

Thankful my love will travel

to wherever my mind deems best.

Only a matter of time before my heart interferes.

At least, that's how I remember it

There must have been 30 of them

huddled in the corner.

30 muffled chuckles when I gave them the news.

Just one of me, the medical marvel, the unanswered question.

They were the doctors and I was the patient.

Help is what I asked for. 

Judgement is what was prescribed.

A four-walled microcosm of my envisioned reality.

I was the odd man out, again.

I'm telling you, there must have been 30 of them.