PILLOW KNOWS BEST

Pillow,
Are you really God?
Are you one of His angels?
I think it might be so.

When I hold you close and tell you my heart,
I feel as though my God is listening.
Within your folds I feel safe and secure,
Almost as if another were here.

I think and I talk and I empty my soul
To a case filled with feathers and foam.
I snuggle with dreams of what will be
As my heart travels far and begins to roam.

If God so chose, He could be my pillow!
Of this I have no doubt.
For God is God and can be what He chooses.
He does the impossible, which makes all things possible!
And to Him, nothing is unknown.

So tell me, dear pillow,
Are you God in disguise?
With all of your wisdoms and consoling ways,
As you comfort without arms
And listen without ears,
I sense you are God and have been all these years!

Whichever it is, whomever you are,
I thank you, my friend and/or God!
For through storms of night
And sunshine of morn,
While others have wandered,
Beside me you've stayed.
My comforter, my friend, my God!


As your pillow, I've listened and learned from you much
Through the sharing of tears,
Through the sharing of fears,
And even in sleep through your dreams.

The moments of wonderment in silence of night,
Alone and armless I hold you tight,
Simply a pillow of feathers and foam.
The blessings of wisdoms roam.

You matter to many yet question your meaning.
The ways you walk and the lives you touch
Are godly and filling to others who seek.
Yet you fail to see even a peek
Of the goodness you give and the love you share
Simply by showing others you care.

I offer these words for you to see
The ways that God has made you to be
As His tool for good and sharing of love,
Sent from the One who leads from above.

I know you will worry. It is who you are.
I know that your faith will continue to lead.
As you walk through the days before you,
Look up to the heavens when feeling weak,
Trusting His will and asking for strength
To again step onward and bless those who seek.

A new day will dawn.
Fresh beginnings are born
With the sunrise of skies,
And smiles adorning.
Your pillow believes in you;
You should too!
You are loved ... go touch the world.


Oh, my friend who shares my space,
I hear your heart, and I see your face.
If I could tell you what I see,
Perhaps you would feel differently.

I do not sense you feel your worth
As you sort your thoughts,
And you share old wounds,
Repeated time and time again
In echo of days gone by.

If your heart is full of love and flowing
More and more without you knowing,
What you feel will find the sun,
And freedom again to walk not run.

The wisdom gained will serve you well
In the path ahead and feeding of souls,
Shining brightly for those who watch,
Even though you do not see.

You do not know how you are used
Through every breath, through every smile,
Through every touch you matter much,
Through what you do and how you live
For peace of heart comes as you give.

I lie here with you, your pillow of thoughts.
Holding your head, I will never let go
For too many people have walked away
In earlier days as they searched their way.
In journeys of self they did not stay.
It is their loss, or so I say.

As your pillow of night I hear your soul
As it speaks of dreams and visions.
You are precious, my child,
With so much to give
And so much to live.
Doubt not; do not settle.

A heart so pure, a brain so bright,
So little to fear in the dark of night.
Walk on, my child, with soul alive.
Steps now slower, yet with great stride
As you glide through life in pride.

Look on in faith and hope and knowing,
And steer your path toward peace
For you, my child, are a gift from above.
A gift to many, a gift of love.

With purpose and passion, your feet are set free.
With heart wide open, your eyes can see.
The future holds much as your life unfolds.
Step forth in strength; go ahead and be bold.

Believe you will.
Know that you can.
Expect it is so, and be that friend.
For love awaits and goodness soars.
Step out, my friend, and open those doors.
You are not things told in the past.
You are now free ... finally ... alas.


I hear her thoughts and catch her tears
As they flow in wait and wonder.
They said they would call, but never did.
Too busy with life; therefore, in sadness she slumbers.

She asked them to visit; sorry, no time.
She asked to go there; we won't be home.
She loves that they smile in the busyness of life.
She wants them joyful; in solo she slumbers.

She looks at the photos and imagines the hugs.
She watches the videos and giggles within.
She chooses to focus on blessings received.
She and her pillow hug in slumber.

Life is short and meant to be lived.
Love is deep and meant to give.
The day is done, lights going out,
Prayers sent to those out and about.

"Dear Father in heaven, please join them wherever.
Deliver my love to their hearts.
Give them a squeeze in hopes they remember
They are special and loved in the distance."

Days have passed, and they need her no more.
Moved on, being parents to their own.
Memories remain of days long gone,
Of story time readings and tuck in prayers,
Of food for the hungry and homes for the homeless,
Of moms for the orphans and shelter for the strays.

"Remember those days, Mr. Pillow?" she asks of me in the dark.
"Remember their talks to avoid going to sleep?
Tis now my turn to talk with you solo,
As I pray for my Loves and my Littles.
It's you and I, Pillow, and I thank you so much,
For holding me tight and hugging my limbs,
In the cradle of your lumps and bumps.

Good night, dear Pillow,
Sleep well, my friend.
If in dark of night I join God in the heavens,
I will tell him of the years of tears and giggles.
The times you have held me and discussions we've shared.
I will offer my thanks that you've always cared."


Powerful it is to touch another-
A child, a stranger, sometimes a brother,
Sometimes just listening,
Sometimes by giving,
The power of influence is huge.

Hand to hand and heart to heart,
It takes only one person to start.
Then one becomes two, and two become three.
The love flowing great as the sea!

The world so large with differences many,
Yet small and so much alike,
Travel afar, and see who you meet.
Bend as with God, and wash their feet.

The smiles will grow.
You'll see faces you know.
Differences seen,
But eyes just the same.
Souls to be nourished,
Where peace and love grow,
When we take time and care to know.


Miracles,
Moments,
Magnificent,
Unpredicted,
Unbelieved,
Unreal.

God—
Always
Simple,
Predictable,
Believable,
Real.

Choices—
You,
I,
Always
Free
Choices.

GRATITUDES FROM LIFE

Mr. Mead

He was a great man of stature and influence,
A teacher of English,
An appreciator of music,
This man of intimidation to me.

Tall in height and slow in walk,
With back straight and hair of tight curls,
My memory is one of cautionary ways,
While a student of his class in earlier days.

Was it I who created the tension I felt?
Was it he who instilled it within me?
Whichever it is, whoever the author,
My reflections of class are mixed yet clear.

A writer I am, a lover of words,
As was he, or I so believe.
Myself but thirteen and unsure of my way,
Soaking his wisdom was a quiet delight.
Yet, I also was reluctant to relax and enjoy,
Opting instead for ways of observation,
Praying to be unnoticed.

I remember the day as if it were now,
Sitting in row two from the door.
The last in the row at the back of the room,
I listened and picked up my folder from floor.

A lesson assigned, "Please get to work."
In silence, my paper remained empty of words.
The phonograph playing a calming tune-
"Theme from a Summer Place"-from across the room.

Ten minutes passed and then fifteen.
Still no words through fingers flowed,
As frustration within me grew and grew,
I chose to approach the man wearing blue.

Timidly stepping, I went to the front,
To his desk in the far-right corner.
There he sat, with red pen and papers.
Beside his chair I stood in silence.

It was clear to me he knew I was there,
Yet his head he did not raise.
Instead, he continued correcting the work,
Leaving me standing, confused.

Without a mere look he simply said, "Yes?"
Finally, the silence was broken.
I shared that I knew the assignment given,
But was stuck and unable to do it.

With the roll of his head to the right where I stood,
His eyes met my own without a word.
A second or two connected in gaze,
He rolled his head back to his work.
Again, I am left there, standing.

There I stayed with no more said.
Then finally he spoke, with head down at work,
"Maybe you can't, but I think you can.
Return to your seat and begin."

Today I smile as I recall this moment
And the influence it has played on my life.
Now, as a woman of sixty-one, I cherish these seconds exchanged.
I cherish the gift he gave me that day, this man of intimidation.

I did not know in that day of class,
Just how those moments would guide me.
It is likely he also had no clue,
What the power of his simple words would do,
For this thirteen-year-old student throughout her life,
Through joy and challenge and especially strife.

Have you had someone believe in you?
Have you questioned yourself about what you could do?
When the world says, "You can't. You haven't a clue."
How have you flowed on through?

For this student of English and lover of word.
The teacher of writing has taught her much.
For he gave her the tools to believe that she can,
When he directed her steps and erased room for doubt,
Not allowing her to fail, or to pout.

Decisions in life as we pass through the years,
Become harder and harder while meeting new fears.
The doubts of nay sayers loud and clear,
The prodding of this teacher taught how strength can appear.

I thank you, Mr. Mead of earlier days.
I thank you for your beliefs and unwavering ways.
As I replayed your words through years of decisions,
My back became straight and my eyes lifted high,
Believing I could, and knowing I should,
In spite of not always knowing why.

The nuggets we gather will guide us on,
When we carry them close within our hearts.
Our steps can go forth to unknown roads,
Discovering blessings and gifts we hold,
If we believe in ourselves, and choose to be bold.

Mr. Mead - The Back Story

Who in your life has offered you a simple wisdom or moment that has directed you in the years beyond? I trust we all have something that we occasionally return to within our heart for one reason or another. That place of clarity, or that person who knew something existed within us when we failed to see it ourselves. Perhaps it even came in a less than happy exchange or memory, yet still sparked us to discover something within. Somehow, I must have known that Mr. Mead's Ninth Grade English class was a catalyst for me. While not fully recognizing it at the time, I have returned to that youthful moment over and over through many years. I find it interesting that through many years of education, that class is the only one for which I still have the writings created. Tucked away safe within my files they have traveled the miles of my life. Through several relocations, marriage, children and divorce, the writings from Mr. Mead days were kept. I chuckle at the thought, and privately wonder what my younger self was thinking within to know she wanted to keep them.

For this author, writing has been my absolute best and unconditional friend. Whether making diary notes of family moments, or writing dreams and wishes for my children over the years, my writing has gotten me through. While others have come and gone through life, my writing has never left me. As I, my writing continued to take root and bloom!

As a woman in my 50's and a thinker of deep, I found myself thinking of Mr. Mead. I wondered if he was alive, and I wanted to say, "Thank You!" It took me a bit of searching, but with smile alive I found he was well and wrote him a letter with so much to tell. Within it I shared my memories from so long ago, and the influence he had upon my life. I explained the tough decisions I have made in life, and the fear that I faced in the process. I shared how I often replayed his words ... heard his voice ... and recalled his belief in what my younger self was capable of. I thanked him for allowing me to see myself through his eyes in that brief moment of time.

Expecting nothing in return, I placed a stamp upon my letter wearing a smile upon my face and sent it off to Mr. Mead. I have always loved taking action in gratitude, and I was hopeful this surprise would fill him with joy. I imagined the thousands he taught all those years, names and faces long since gone and forgotten. I was confident he would not remember my name or face. Still, it felt good to send him my thanks. Task completed life flowed onward, until to my surprise he wrote me back!

Not only did he write a recollection of those days, but he seemed to remember even more than I. Others in class, a story or two, and where I could buy the album of "Theme From A Summer Place" (which he still plays!). We exchanged a letter or two, both enjoying the reflections shared. The gift of old was a gift now new, blessing us both with smiles. What a great reward I received in offering a simple 'Thank You' to such a deserving man.

Do you have someone you owe a 'Thank You'; or simply an 'I Remember You'? A neighbor? An old lost friend? A crabby co-worker or former connection in life? I encourage you to reach out however is best and in whatever way you can. I was so grateful it wasn't to late for me to send my thanks! While the gift is intended for the receiver to whom it is sent, I can attest to the fact that you are equally gifted in return. Challenge on ... Go touch a life today!

I'm home pillow, with new stories to share,
From travels to see my Loves and my Littles.
I cherish those times, though they fly so fast,
I wish they were closer like in days now passed.

While laying in the darkness at my child's home,
I find my thoughts beginning to roam.
To places within tucked neatly away,
Behind my protective walls.

Sometimes I wander to business fears,
Or off to lost loves of earlier years,
Pondering backward and forward to life,
In private visions; trying so hard to see.

I found myself asking what God plans for me.
Although he didn't send me a letter of answers,
I did hear assurance I have made Him proud.
I felt his presence within me while hugging my pillow.

He gave me the gift of remembering He's here.
Reminding He's watching and is near.
Placing my hand in His we go forth,
No need to worry, no need to plead.

He assured me He knows I miss being loved.
Listing the reasons He removed from my life,
Those that He knew were not good for me.
He promised me joy, being blessed and free.

Sometimes Pillow, life can be hard.
Lost in the quiet of solo thoughts,
Especially if focused on days behind,
I dwell on my errors, and those unkind.

Today I am blessed with more than I need.
I have peace in my home,
With my God in my heart,
Day after day is a brand new start.

Forward I look with a smile on my face.
Eyes to the heavens with joy alive,
Spring in my step with gratitude flowing.
I'm loving this life. Expectations are growing!


I hear you laugh, I hear you cry.
You grieve and speak from deep inside.
The what if's of life,
The why and how,
Such wonderment I see as a lesson.

I see such gifts of breath and sun,
And listen each time your day is done.
The thoughts I hear in silence unbroken,
The life you plan yet remains unspoken.
The power of strength and passion and will,
Leave me in awe, quiet and still.

I delight in your joy, and your grateful eyes.
I delight in you wanting to make a difference.
The giggles of knowing you have found your way,
You pick yourself up for another day.

Burdens gone and self accepted.
Transformations so exciting,
As you see how great you are!
The person inside,
Accepted and honored,
No longer in need to hide.

Freedom lives and joy thrives,
As you come to know His plan for you.
And allow the master to drive your star.
You know the words and thoughts you write,
Are authored by someone else tonight.

Accept it my child, accept it with pride,
For the ways of old have long since died.
With lessons learned and journeys gained,
This life is a gift with much to attain.

God's will be done,
Through me and mine,
Touching lives and sharing thine.
Use me Father as you choose.
May I shine your light and light your fuse,
In the hearts and souls of those I see,
As your will guides me along the way,
I promise to smile through each new day.


Thank you to the haters and judgers of the world.
Through you I have found clearer visions,
Of love and acceptance,
Of self and others,
I thank you again and again!

Thank you to those who believed in me not.
For you gifted me the need to honor myself,
To survive, to thrive, and to finally arrive,
In this place of reflection and acceptance.

Thank you to the bullies, whether knowing or unknowing.
Your words that cut deep sliced open my soul,
Thus today my gifts can flow.
Through your hurts I met compassion,
And now let it grow.

Thank you to those who walked away.
Had you stayed I would not know,
My gifts of endurance, self love, and commitment,
Honor and faith deepened within;
Alive, these are things I now cherish.

Thank you to those who don't step up.
The ones who stand in wait of my fall.
I see you watching.
I see you waiting.
Your eyes make me focus upon my steps.
Keep watching and waiting for you shall see,
This little fish swimming in the big blue sea.

To the haters and judgers, disbelievers and bullies.
I wonder what your mirror says to you.
Does it lie with reflections of someone you are not?
Are you sad as you look to yourself?
Do the lashings you give live deep within,
And their hurts cut doubly in you?

Life is a gift to be lived and honored,
Explored and journeyed,
Cherished and loved.
Filled with the gifts of God's authoring,
Gifts planted in you and me.

Be proud of your walk,
Or adjust if need be.
We all have a secret of days gone by,
We all have a choice to stand still or fly.
Anchor your souls in the place you stand,
And love those around you in truth.

Love on the haters, judgers, and bullies.
Believe in others and encourage them on.
Ask "What do you need." and provide it in love,
Lash not out at others.
Live love given freely.
Judge not from your throne of self.