Never Leaving Home

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I left a place that I called “home”
But realized that “home” is not a place at all.
A place is rooms with carpeted floors
A box with windows and paint on the wall.
A “home”, on the other hand,
Is much more than that.
A “home” is pictures, and gifts,
and stories from your past.
A “home” is the collection of treasures
from your children’s younger days.
Those things they wanted kept safe
When they moved away.
A “home” is those stubborn plants
that survive!
They must want to be with me.
They’re still alive!
“Home” is a typewriter,
an old-fashioned pair of shoes,
a harmonica, a magazine rack;
things I could never bear to lose.
“Home is all those things
that I was willing to pack and carry away.
Then, quickly take them out, place them around me.
And then I realize
“Home” never moved away.

For Me

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I walk the woods
in silence,
letting my thoughts
lead the way.

Today,
my eyes are drawn
to someone’s
abandoned bouquet.

They’re delicate
in shades of
purple
and white.

I think
they’re simply
beautiful
as they rest there
in the evening light.

Who were they
meant for?
And why were they
just left in this tree?

I let the answer be
simple.
They must have been
for me!

Life is Fragile. Handle With Care

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It’s spring time. New life is popping up all around us. It’s delicate.  We need to handle it with care.

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“Be gentle”, we tell children.  “Soft touch.”

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Sometimes, though, when something new is happening, even we, as adults, forget to be careful, and accidentally step on this delicate new life.

But, it’s not just new life that should be protected.

All life is fragile.

Any life can be, quickly, broken with a single step.

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So before you step on someone’s life, remember:

Watch where you’re stepping.

Tread lightly.  

Be gentle.  

Soft touch.

Life is fragile.

Handle it with care.

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