The Waves of Passing Time

“All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming.” – Helen Keller

Screen shot 2017-10-15 at 8.52.56 PMPhoto credit:

Can the mountain brook
rolling down the hill
calm our minds
with its rhythmic humming?
Can the canopy of stars
shine upon us
and ignite our dreams?
Can the sweltering sun
burn our worries away
and warm up our hearts?
Can we feel its touch?
On our skin,
deep inside our souls.
Can we feel at all?
Do we know what is real
and what is false?
Is there hope?
Why does everything
have to fall apart?
Do we have to destroy
the world before
our tears kiss the broken
pieces left behind?
The eyes are welling up.
Is it the heat or frost in the heart?
Is it regret or failing sight?
Is it sorrow, is it joy?
Or is it the burning salt
in the waves of passing time?
…the journey of life.
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Waves of Love

“Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” – Mark Twain

When love
fills every cell of your heart,
I’m speaking of Agate,
not the romantic kind,
let your Soul be a vessel.
The loving force through many shores
to share kindness with the world.
May you be the ocean’s waves
traveling from land to land.
Be the tender hand
reaching to the edge of the world
molding rust into gold.
Kiss every grain of sand
and build a castle in the air,
for air is infinite.
Dedicated to the victims of the Las Vegas massacre


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Today I Stand

“The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.” – Albert Einstein

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Who I was yesterday
is but a memory
of winding roads and
stepping stones.
might never come.
But if it does
I hope to dance
like a river
through terrain
of many unknowns.
today I stand
as a bottomless well
collecting drops of rain;
open and curious.
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She Stole My Soul

“Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.” – John Muir

Screen shot 2017-09-22 at 7.43.14 PM 2Photo credit: National Geographic Gallery

She walks me through her meadows
as if to forget about the world.
She guides my spirit as I climb
her snow-covered peaks
touching the crowns of her trees
clothed in shimmering gowns of majesty.
Or is it a veil of ancient eloquence?
I fall in love every time
I feel her touch upon my face.
She showers me
with all her precious treasures
as if I were her only baby,
a cub born in a carefully dug winter den.
She lets me drink from her lakes
and bathe in her summer rain.
She selflessly offers all
she has to share,
shelters me from the storms
of the outer world as if
her lush valley was some kind of a fairytale
with a soft pillow and blanket
stitched during sleepless nights
just for my comfort and enjoyment.
She wipes my tears away,
not from my cheek but my heart.
And when I think of the presence of death
she shows me the liveliness
in the playful birds and grazing deer nearby.
But she’s not all that innocent
for she is a mischievous thief
hiding behind her ageless charm.
She stole my soul and made it her own.
She painted it in the opening of the indigo skies
and with a twinkle in her eye
urged me to rest my mind
on the canopy of midnight stars.
Although I continue to traverse
the fabric of this weary earth,
the sandy beaches and rocky paths
where rusty barns tirelessly endure all elements,
I keep looking up as if
to feel the rhythm of my heart
in the wing of a butterfly,
in the shape of a billowing cloud
in the heartbeat of Nature herself.
I see her love in the seasons of life
as she tightly holds my soul in her arms
offering me flowers till the day I die.



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A New Day

“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves. – Henry David Thoreau

Paul Bica 2Photo by Paul Bica

And when we awaken at last
from the nightmare
that shattered our heart,
still with a sleepy eye,
breath by breath, weary
we come to realize
a new day yet again arrived.
A gift for us to hold dear.
Even when the fog sits low
and the sun is slow to rise,
when our steps are heavy
and soul soaked with sorrow,
we can’t let the moment pass
without painting a new
We must become artists
painting with a brush of light,
the faint rays of hope
kissing the morning sky.
By Sharka Waite


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Mountains of Lies

“Marriage is not a noun; it’s a verb. It isn’t something you get. It’s something you do. It’s the way you love your partner every day.” –  Barbara De Angelis

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When you lose the love
with whom you set to grow old.
When compassion abandons the house
you believed to be your forever home,
how do you reconcile the space
that’s suddenly dark like a black hole?
How do you sail into the storm
when all you worked for was calm?
How do you look into the face of evil
when all you knew was warmth?
You must become a mountaineer!
Tough, with an extra layer of clothes
and a backpack full of food
to nourish the ailing soul.
You must see through the obscuring fog
where lies masquerade as the truth.
Where mountains of blame impose themselves
you must know it’s the rocky landscape
of the abuser’s gilt and a dearth of character.
Where there is a sunset of integrity
you must set your sails into the sunrise
of courage and overcoming.
And, most of all, you must believe
your spirit shall find its wings.


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Like a River

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” – Maya Angelou

Screen shot 2017-08-16 at 12.20.02 PM 2Photo credit: Glacier National Park

Like a mountain stream
with its winding journey
kissing every rock
meeting every bend
with courage, echoing
Mother Nature’s song
dancing in delight, encouraging
for the gates of our heart
to open wide and let
the being of love
like summer air spread
from a flower to a sun ray
to a blade of grass,
finding every last soul
to be touched and transformed
to feel at home
wherever we are
with whatever we have
and wherever we go,
fluid like a river
melting into nature’s glow
never alone.
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The Animal Soul

“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don’t know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring–it was peace.” ― Milan Kundera

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Just as I thought I can’t make another step
his paw touched my arm
his head rested on my shoulder
his tongue licked my neck
his warm breath in my face
his deep eyes hugging my heart.
Perhaps he was saying I can do it.
Perhaps he was thanking me
for rescuing him.
Perhaps he just loved me
At times, it seems,
we find the best in the world
neatly packed in four paws;
in the gentle, animal soul.
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Canvas of Life

“Let us be kind to one another, for most of us are fighting a hard battle.” – Ian MacLaren

Screen shot 2017-07-25 at 12.28.49 PM 2 Art credit:

The comfort of a gloomy morning,
its grayness like a canvas hanging
in the room of melancholy
when life weeps in its most treasured
raindrops of iridescent hue.
It all seems so tragic yet, so beautiful,
like an artist with a paintbrush
creating magic of an abstract art,
lost in thought letting the rain fall
on the canvas of life like pearls
rolling down through muddy paths
making them shimmer with a tremulous light.
The paths of pain and sorrow
only gloom can heal, for the sun
might be too bright to see
the landscape of watercolors falling
from the giving sky, blending
with all the seeds of life;
some weary, some eager to breathe
and sprout to tomorrow’s light.
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Yosemite’s Heartbeat

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.” ― John Muir

Joshua Cripps Photography Photo credit: Joshua Cripps Photography

The heartbeat of Yosemite,
oh, so captivating,
whispering through ages.
Its garden swallowing us whole,
urging us to open our wings
and fly to the edge of wonder;
touch the winds of time.
The mountaintops are calling
for our soul to climb the walls of life.
The valley sings her enduring melody
for our bare feet to dip in the soft green.
The waterfalls are roaring in their might,
some dancing in rainbow mist
as angels on heavens’ clouds.
And, the heart;
the heart melts into all
that is so beautifully wild,
free of worry and doubt.
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