Years after my mother died, I still struggled to find meaning in how and why she left so unexpectedly. One morning as I was walking the dogs, a line of poetry came to me. Then another, and another. Soon a whole poem had been written in my mind, and I couldn't wait to get home to put the words on paper. I had never written a poem before.​​

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Suddenly poetry flooded my consciousness. I felt taken by a spirit that ran through and for me, healing me with her grace. Writing has become something that isn't a choice but an answer to my heart's longing to feel everything. And it continues to be a sensuous experience that brings me closer to the divine within; helping me to access answers known only by my heart. ​​Poetry keeps me honest and vulnerable. And most of all, it keeps me free. What a joy to share these words with you.