Earth Stories


Earth Stories

I see the lines
They curve and bend
As the waves
Rock them back and forth.
They drift and sway
As I stare
And then flap their wings
And fly away.
Dropping words
From their wings spread
To catch the air.
The words tumble down
In masses upon the ground,
Inching, crawling
Towards one another
To become
The stories
Of the earth.
Written in the fields,
Among the trees
Scattered across mountains
And valleys
Waiting for one
To come and pick them up,
To discover what it is they say.
I watch the earth dissolve into
Itself, transforming
Again and again in an effort
To spread the stories.
I see what lies behind
What the eyes can see.


If my life was a book



If my life was a book

What if my life was really a book

Everything I think I’m doing is really just the

Words someone else is writing down

On a page?

What if the things I believe to be real

Including myself are not

Real beyond the page.

If I’m just a figment of someone’s imagination?

How would that change my view on things?

I’d see it all as part of the adventure, the story

As it unfolds.

Every hardship and tear

A beautiful, hauntingly sad part of

A story with a lesson

A reason for existence.

I mean the best books are ones where

Adventures happen,

I love it when someone goes through

An incredibly emotional and difficult time

Only to have it all work out some way in the end.

Maybe I could take it all less seriously

If I was just a character on a page.

My pain and struggles

Merely a way to move the plot along

For the entertainment of the reader.

What would it be if I was

Really just a reason for a book?


An interesting thought – if my life was a book. You see as much as I am a writer, I am also a voracious reader. I love books, have since I was young. One of my favorite places is the library, the quiet, the smell of the books, just being surrounded by so many words – love it! I recently had a thought after finishing a book for my book club, what if my life was just a story in someone’s book, that everything happening was inside someones imagination? That’s where this poem came from.

What would your life look like as a book?

What if you are meant to read this?



What if?


What if today was special

Just like every other day,

Wondrous and joyous

Filled with purpose and meaning?


What if we stopped

Spun ourselves around

For just a moment,

Suspended reality

Gave in to a new way.


What if every single person we met

We needed to meet?

If every single person we came into contact with,

From the cashier at the grocery store,

To the doctor,

To the person in the car next to you at a red light,

If every one of them had meaning for you,

A reason to cross paths with your life.

If even for a moment your energy was

Affected by theirs and vice versa?

If that one moment of energy exchange

Made a million things possible that otherwise

Wouldn’t have been.


What if every moment, every tiny thing

We do is part of

A greater purpose

Beyond what we can see?

What if the miracle is that we are alive,

If our own existence

Comes with so many

Happenstance situations that

We must be here for a purpose.


What if we lived our lives with

This kind of reverence for all we encounter

No matter whether we term it ‘good’ or ‘bad’

It is meant to happen purely

To be part of our story.

What if we lived from a place of

What if instead of why me?


What could it hurt to believe in greatness?


Today was like any other day, woke up, went to work, ran errands, worked out etc.But as the day wore on an idea wouldn’t leave my head. What if all of this is part of something more, what if there’s a reason? When I get this idea in my head everything feels magical and light. I feel connected to something greater and as though there is no way anything could be wrong. Things could feel wrong, and feel bad, and I could get upset and angry and depressed (and believe me I do), but things couldn’t actually be wrong. Because of all the billions of possibilities-of things and people and events in the world-of all the things that had to happen just so I can be where I am right now, there must be some reason, some purpose. It has to be ‘right’ merely because it is, even with all the other possibilities that could have happened instead. And you know it is a rather comforting way of thinking. If only I could think this way all the time. What do you think about living from a place of ‘what if,’ could you do it, would you want to?