I would not have predicted life stripping me of my words, carving the hieroglyphics of a deeper meaning on the walls of my soul, right before blasting them to bits, the ancient language pounded down into dust, filling the soil with a sweet sound brew and growing gardens one can only feel, hum, smile, hug, or even scream wordlessly.
But here it is, this stripping, as moments shape a landscape I call my life. A daughter in love. Heaven help me.
A son finding the drummer within and contending with life’s changes.
And in the middle. The older son with the hugs relentless, wielding a violin and a willfulness singing sweet individuality.
And all three riff on their guitars, uncovering a melody, something I can’t fathom, something their own, not mine. And it shines, gives me hope for a world roiling in transformation.
J. Ruth Kelly 
A lovely family
Thanks Wayne… I think so, of course. 🙂
Gods do envy you, sister. Would that they could smell a rose! Indeed, you are a shining something. Your words are always a gift. Thank you.
Those gods have it bad. We’re all so much better off! We have roses and friends supreme like you. Hugs and love to you my dear friend.
Life and its changes can be like small wrapped packages of mirth and joy, miracles and magic that open on their own, hoping you see – thanks for sharing.
Thanks for the gift of your own lovely reflection, Mary.
Sweet word of a mother.
It’s a fertile field of growth for me, being a mom. :o)