Here and Now

Everything I think about your smile when you are amused and how you hold both of my hands when you are serious I think about your arms wrapped around me when I'm shaking from the inside out but mostly I feel everything  I feel my swollen heart how it fills, and spills I devise ways to cement the cracks and ways to say goodbye I see every word I hear every detail There is nothing that I miss and yet I will miss everything Angela Minard 2014© Photography by~Sofia Ajram

Photography by~ Bahman Farzad All I Know I talk to you in my head, in my dreams and when the words won't come I write them down Always to you... Eventually I delete your replies You never write much anyway Maybe I should keep all of your ellipses and questions I save your voice mails for awhile, listening to them when I feel far away but I can hear you without them Someday you say I won't need you and my feelings will be different, but I don't want them to change I'm accustomed to this longing It is all I know Angela Minard 2014© "If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak,  return to yourself, to who you are,  here and now,   and when you get there,  you will discover yourself,  like a lotus flower, in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong." ~Masaru Emoto "The Secret Life Of Water"

Photography by~ Aleksandr Manamis We are here at 3:00 a.m. without words to soothe  O ur wounds o ozing  Sticky, Messy, Gaping Holes The darkness is not cool against our skin The shadows do not loom We are here Eclipsed to sit inside our knowing Without escape

You Want Me To Write You want me to write about willow trees their resilience or maybe how the limbs bend, but do not break as if I should compare myself to such graceful beauty but I cannot... The willow tree that I lovingly planted in our backyard, a tiny sapling with tender, delicate leaves sprouting along narrow yellow branches is dead now Too many harsh winters, followed by early springs She grew so tall, shading our swing set throughout many summers. Children climbed her enormous trunk,  and I would shout into the wind for them to be careful "Please do not fall" "Please do not break her branches" Even then I knew she was fragile, much weaker than she appeared One late winter morning I awoke to an ice covered wonderland the sun dancing off of her branches I sat on the sofa, and as I gazed out the window,  I heard the painful cracking of her limbs The weight of the ice,  finally too much for her t...