Come morning,
when darkness lifts
its veil of mourning,
the warm sun gifts
her day to praise
with sweet refrain
on a grassy grave
in the mountains.

r ~ 5/10/14

Hey Dad,
It's been some time since we last spoke. I miss you, still. I'm writing to ask that you pass a message on to Mom for me. She never was one for sentimental stuff; but you know that, already.

Tell Mom that she is missed by all of her children; we miss her especially on this, her first Mother's Day away. I will miss not calling or seeing her. I missed sweating over what to get her this year. I miss her voice those times when I just needed to hear it; the first time that Noah had an ear infection, those times that I needed to know what was wrong with my roses. She always seemed to have the right answer no matter what. Just like you.

Tell Mom that I'm doing well. I've stopped drinking. I know she never liked that. Tell her that Noah is graduating from High School next month. You both were always so proud of him. He misses both of you very much. You should see him now, Dad. He's as tall as I am. As tall as you. He has grown into a good man; he is a lot like you in many ways. Noah sends his love to you both.

Well, I just wanted to say hello, and ask that you tell Mom that I love her. Tell her that I understand. It was time. She missed you. You were waiting up in the high pasture for quite awhile.  I'll let you go, now. I know that you two still have a lot of catching up to do.

Hugs to Mom.

                         Love,
                         Rick

r ~ 5/11/14

You are the reason I am
breathing, talking,
compassionate, and giving.
You've given me life
education, wisdom;
understanding.
We've been through our differences,
and at one point took our own paths...
But I'd like to believe
that all new roads traveled
will never be like the last,
although they
always seem
to bring you
right
back
home.

As the golden sun sets,
My eyes tear and sparkle with joy,
The burning torture of the day; gone,
And now the white light to enjoy.
I sit at the stroke of midnight,
Eyeing beautiful lights up in the night sky,
Thousands; millions enraptured my acceptance,
Watching is a privilege, yet not to fly.
There is more to be seen,
For tiny stars are resting above me,
They call on me as to do a favor,
I am to count these stars,
Everyone I see.
Yet the beauty gets more intense,
Of newer, bigger stars forming,
Yet my ears follow another sound,
There becomes grayness for storming!
Stars faded one by one,
Some vanished in a row,
For this was no joke,
Nor any show!
The most widely known star,
Burned the cloud,
For whatever tiny stars were left cheered,
The night seemed so proud.

Standing there
arms high
and heart abandoned.
Completely surrendering your soul.
Crying out for the Lord.
In awe of all He's done.
Tears in your eyes.
Chills down your spine.
Singing out to the One who deserves it.

Worshiping the one true King
with all your heart.

Why would you call me,
When you have so many other people to choose from?

Why would you want to hang around with me,
When you have other things you could be doing?

Why do you want to know what i'm doing,
When my answer is always the same?

Why do you want to make plans with me,
When all I do is stand off and away from everyone else?

Why choose me?

But I know I will always choose you too.

So thank you.

I want to lay down
Under the night sky
And watch the stars
With you
For so long
We notice them spinning
To the sound of our heartbeats.