Since I already did a blog with this word in it I am just going to post the link here.




<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/elegance/”>Elegance</a&gt;



It all started with this OWL! I was driving back from somewhere toward my house one evening at the end of the summer when something large with a huge wingspan cut across the front of my car. It was something that moved so swiftly in the dark I couldn’t tell what it was. I stopped so suddenly as to not collide with the beast and almost soiling myself in the process.  I slowly turned my head and there, upon the telephone wire sat, a great big owl. I slowly got out of my car turning on my camera on the phone and with bated breath snapped this photo. He didn’t seem fazed by all the commotion and in fact looked at me as if I were nothing more than a blip on his night. I having, never seen an owl before in real life was left breathtaken and a little curious that he didn’t seem to be afraid of me. He seemed to see into me and a shiver actually went down my spine.

Being more than a little creeped out I slowly backed away and got back in my car and drove home. A part of me shaken to my very core not understanding why? It was just a bird, right? I phoned my friend and relayed the events that had happened and she said, “you know in some cultures seeing an owl is a sign of death.”  Not knowing any of this I, of course, googled it and I wish I hadn’t. You see just a couple of weeks before this I had an overwhelming sense of dread. I had a feeling that I was about to die. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know when, but I felt a certainty unlike anything else I have ever felt in my life. I am still scared of it.

So you can understand that I was more than a little shaken by the news I found on Google. Here is what I found.

Some native American tribes (which I do have a lot of Native American in me). For instance, believe that dreaming of an owl signified approaching death. Boreal owl calls were a call spirits to the Cree people, and if you answered back with a whistle and didn’t get a response, it was a sign that your death was imminent.

Also, owls were associated with witchcraft. Greeks and Romans believed witches could turn themselves into owls, and in this form would come and suck the blood of babies. In other cultures, owls were simply messengers of witches or hooted to warn the approach of a witch.

Some Romans associated owls with the goddess Athena, wisdom, and prophecy.

This is the one that got me cause my friend and I was just talking about it before “the incident” it was that the Ancient Christians saw owls as a sign of evil and linked then with Lilith, Adam’s first, disobedient wife.

There is so much lore, centered around the owls that by the time I read through everything my head was spinning, but he seems to now be following me. I am more than a little freaked out now. It’s as if he doesn’t want me to forget him or something. Because owls keep popping up everywhere in my life. To show you what I mean I am going to add some pics I took of different owls and you can tell me an I worrying for nothing?


There is one pic I don’t have it was right after this incident I had all but forgotten the creepiness of the evening but then I went to work one morning and a friend of mine walked past me and there on her shoulder was an owl purse. Same beady eyes as the real one, but this was only the beginning.

The next one is about a week or so later and I have a pic of it. I went to the doctor to get stitches and as I looked up there at the entrance to the waiting room was a painting of a whole family of freaking owls.


Then came the ads on tv. This one was an insurance commercial.


This one is self-explanatory.


Then came my favorite way to procrastinate (while I am not writing) the tv shows. Granted I have only seen them on two tv shows but they are there every time I watch. This one is 2 Broke Girls see what is behind her on the counter yup it is another owl. I have another pic of the same episode with a shot of an owl on the fridge but I cannot find it at the moment.


Then there is THE BIG BANG THEORY! Look at the table owl salt and pepper shakers. There is another episode where she is in the apartment she had and it does a screen shot of her at the kitchen island with green owl salt and pepper shakers but I never captured that one.


Then there is this one same episode but look what is hanging on the wall behind him.


Then there is my everyday life. My favorite place in the world my used bookstore where I do my open mike poetry nights. The place where I go to unwind and relax. My church so to speak and now it too has been riddled with owls.


And I stopped by there this morning and what do you know right in front of me the owner’s newest addition to the store. Another freaking owl!


Annnd last but I am certain not the least. I was scrolling through stuff on Google this morning after that last pic when I came across the Native American Animal signs. I am not an owl but my best friend who just had her birthday on Saturday is. Ironically the pic looks just like the one I saw that first night, but in a drawing form. Here is that pic.


I am losing my mind here. Please, someone, tell me this is not something I should worry about or is it much like you know when you buy a car and you never see that type of car. Then suddenly because you have one they are everywhere. Am I subconsciously seeking them out? I don’t feel as if I am and yet, they seem to be haunting me. Everywhere I go. Is my madness finally kicking in by way of a night flying bird? Or do I really need to be watchful of falling beams and such? You tell me. Any input would be greatly received.


She was saintly in all that she did.  A wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister. Her roles were etched out for her even before she was born and she played them well.

Always the yes girl, she behaved exactly as she should. Never complaining that her load was too great to bare.

No one ever asking, if she was alright. They just assumed she was, with all her saintly ways.

However, she was full of fire inside. A hunger for a life only she could imagine. A thirst that could never be quenched.

She longed to sink her bare feet into the sand and watch the waves roll upon her. She craved a life she would never have.

She ached to ride wild horses, barebacked and bare-chested. She lusted after the moon and all his beautiful brightness.

She sought a world where she could be free of all her tedious masks. For in her soul she was anything but saintly.


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/saintly/”>Saintly</a&gt;


I  struggle to keep a straight face as I walk over the bodies that continue to pile up around me. Fodder for my cause, I step over them with sword, in hand. My smile seems to leak out of my face of its own volition. I can’t help it, I am high on the freedom their deaths have brought me. I am a modern-day Joan of Arc and as I swing my blade I cut them down with one heady swipe.

Just as swiftly as the crimson drips from its serrated edge, so do they fall. My enemies, the ner do wells, the fictitious believers with all their righteous causes. It is the thing that makes me smile in the wake of such tragedy. To think that I was able to cut through the bullshit and come out of it the sole victor. To be able to “rise above” so to speak and be the one left standing long after the smoke has cleared and their towers of glass have shattered.

They thought they had me and for a while, they indeed had me on the run. I, however, persevered, “to the victor goes the spoil”  so they say, as I donned my chainmail and breastplate I took up my sword and drew the line in the sand, I went to war! Chopping down every last one of my enemies till there was nothing left, reduced to nothing more than ashes, where once hypocrisy stood.

I am now free of their accusatory tone. Their, negative energy that saps the life out of everything around them. Leaving nothing in their wake but a desolate wasteland of misery and pain. I now stand tall, on the rotting corpses of all that have gone before me. Now fallen at my feet, as if to praise me for my sins. Now washed clean from their lifeless shells. I stand alone, it is my time to dream my dreams and make them my reality.  So I take up my sword, filled with ink and nothing else but my smile I face, the world.




My daughter saved my life! Several times. The first time was the day she was born. The day I first held her 4lb. 17 oz body so close to mine. It was as if we had the same heartbeat and it was wonderful. She had hair the color of obsidian and one of the curliest heads of hair I have ever seen, save for my own. She was the most beautiful baby I had ever laid eyes on. She literally took my breath away with how much I instantly loved this tiny stranger. The tears poured down my face as I stared, fascinated by her beauty. One thought kept running through my mind. I could NEVER be my mother! The tears continued to flow freely while I began to rock the gorgeous newborn in my arms. Holding her so delicately. She was my little angel sent from above, to give me the answer to that ultimate question that had been plaguing me for the entirety of my life. The question I had been asking myself for the past nineteen years “Will I end up like my mother?” In that moment, the answer opened her eyes and looked at me with those crystal blue orbs. In that moment, the answer was perfectly clear, NEVER!

I began this book as a sort of purge if you will. It was a way to expel my demons and maybe a little guilt. I have since learned through the course of writing it that I was so angry over the past that for a time my judgment was cloudy. I cannot even begin to describe the journey this has taken me on emotionally, physically, and mentally. Walking down memory lane during one of the worst times in my life has been exhausting, to say the least. This story started out as a mere blog, a way for me to face my past and try to finally move on from it. Then I realized, there is no moving on from my past. Yes, I can heal from it, and learn to recover, but my past is what made me, well, me! It took all the past hardships and pain to be who I became and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. My past is what defined me, my past is what made me stronger, and yes, it may be well and truly in the past now, but it can never be forgotten. It is the thing that branded my soul, the thing that changed me in ways no one can ever understand, it is the thing that made me a better person. This journey I have embarked on was not what I was expecting but along the way I have found pieces of myself thought lost to me. It has affected my mind, my soul, my heart. Yes, there were moments writing this book when my past demons became too much and I thought “I can’t do this” but in the end, it was well worth it. To expose my past and relive one of the hardest things I have ever had to endure because what I received in return has left me speechless at times.  This book has become so much more than a simple purge of the past. It became about self- growth, and self- discovery, and the realization that somewhere along the way I have stopped running from a past that haunted me daily. The moment I heard those first furtive cries from my daughter, I became a mother. The fact that someone else raised her is just semantics.

I have been through so many horrible things in my life that this just seemed like another blip on the radar, that is my life. Yet, now as I look back at all the memories. I see that I am braver, kinder, and stronger. It took going through something no one should have to go through and for me to come out of it alive to see that, I don’t break so easily. This book has become a part of me, it is me, and I haven’t let it or the past break me. I have more strength and courage than even I knew. To be able to relive a part of my past that would have killed someone else is just, insane! Somehow though I made it through and I hope it helps someone out there that is struggling to cope with their loss as well. It is a tiny death we mother’s feel even if, we are the one that made the decision to give our child up. It may be a tiny death but one that will haunt us forever if we let it. Up until now, that is exactly what has been happening to me. A haunting of epic proportions and I gotta say now that it is out there a relief I haven’t felt in years has washed over me.

This is my story. The story of my heartbreaking soul-shattering journey. The choice I made in giving my child up for adoption. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to endure in my entire life. There was crying, screaming, and pure agony. I felt as if I would never love something so much again. I am telling my story because it matters. Because you never hear the mother’s side of things. No one can fully know what you have been through in this situation unless they have gone through it themselves.

It is the most gut-wrenching thing a woman can go through. I have been silent for too long. For too long I have lived in darkness over the choice I made. For too long I have sat quietly by and listened to the judgment of others. Just because I gave her up doesn’t mean I didn’t, I don’t love her. I write this for her, I write this for myself, I write this for any mother that has had to give her child away. I write this with the hope that I can reach others who have suffered like me. If I could help just one person… Help them cope with the most difficult challenge of their lives. To let them know that they are not alone. To let them see that there is a light at the end of that very dark, very long, tunnel. That life does go on after doing what is right for their child. I want you to know I am here for you. We are taking this journey together. WE ARE THE BIRTH MOMS!


The night calls to me with her alabaster moon. I flit and I fly but my tiny fairy wings can never reach that high.

The man in the moon mocks me with his never-ending smile. I wish I could dance with him as the stars do if only for a little while.

Maybe one day when he dips down into the sea, I can hitch a ride and wait to rise and be who I was meant to be.

To dance and play among the clouds while the rest of the world falls away, I will live among the stars forever and a day.

I can’t wait til it’s just me against the world, forever a fixture in the constellations of life. Screenshot_2017-08-28-20-50-31