EVERYDAY MAGIC: Midnight Poetry Sessions

Poetry. Whether words flow to the rhythm of flowers or fire, a few phrases unraveling the heart is nothing less than a small act of everyday magic.

THE TASTE OF FLIGHT: A Metamorphosis

“For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.” By embracing the now, we are able to recognize that each experience is a skillfully placed building block in our own metamorphosis.

IL DOLCE FAR NIENTE: The Sweetness of Doing Nothing

I’d sooner pull the sun from the horizon and push the moon from the sky than wait for dawn to break. Rather risk the lick of flames from standing too close to the hearth, than wait for the fire to warm the room. Rather pour my emotions uninhibitedly from my heart like spilled ink across a page than wait for the carefully constructed moment to confess them.


Ernest Hemingway once said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

While I don’t have a typewriter quite yet, I do carry a moleskine notebook in my purse and jot down verses whenever the mood strikes. Here’s some verses written over the last few weeks.

MORNING GRATITUDES: Marveling at Your Unique ‘Now’

Waking up early on a weekend, and realizing there are few more hours to sleep in. Waking up early on a weekend, and driving on an open road for a spontaneous adventure. Banana pancakes with walnuts and a drizzle of honey. Watching the sun rise upon the ocean at dawn. Airplane flights into a city at night, gazing out the cabin window and seeing the cityscape illuminated below.

BAJA: The Wild West

This morning I awoke at dawn to the gentle crashing of waves and the rush of Mexico’s Highway 1 outside my window. In many ways, this place is reminiscent of my hometown; all red tile roofs and palm trees and adobe walls painted white.

Sudden moments of clarity, awaken me from the parallels of home. A reminder that this place is foreign.

A HUI KAUA: A Short Story

Hawaii. The island in the South Pacific feels more like a person than a place. It greets her like an old friend, an aloha, after lifetimes of a hui kaua, until we meet again.


“The aura of the words remain. The intersection of that frostbitten, naive January day. Standing at the crossroads of nostalgia and possibility.
Embracing the notions of the experienced and the impending.”