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Oh, my God. It hit me like a tsunami then: how perfect he was for me, how he was everything I could possibly hope for, as a friend, boyfriend - maybe even more. He was it for me. There would be no more looking. I really, really loved him, with a whole new kind of love I'd never felt before, something that made every other kind of love I'd ever felt just seem washed out and wimpy in comparison. I loved him with every cell in my body, every thought in my head, every feather in my wings, every breath in my lungs. And air sacs.

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Naomi Shihab Nye

I do think that all of us think in poems.

Poems, Think, Thinking
Same Author Quotes

I want to be someone making music
with my coming.

Coming, Making, Want

The writing of Kathleen McGookey shines more brightly than most fine things we feel pleasure to read. Celebrate it!

Brightly, Kathleen, Pleasure, Shines, Shining, Writing

Teaching and writing are separate, but serve
feed one another in so many ways. Writing travels the road inward, teaching, the road out - helping OTHERS move inward - it is an honor to be with others in the spirit of writing and encouragement.

Encouragement, Inward, Moving, Road, Teaching

I Still Have Everything You Gave Me It is dusty on the edges. It is slightly rotten. I guard it without thinking. I focus on it once a year when I shake it out in the wind. I do not ache. I would not trade.

Edges, Everything, Rotten, Thinking, Wind, Years

For you who came so far; for you who held out, wearing a black scarf to signify grief; for you who believe true love can find you amidst this atlas of tears linking one town to its own memory of mortar, when it was still a dream to be built and people moved there, believing, and someone with sky and birds in his heart said this would be a good place for a park.

Amidst, Birds, Dream, Grief, Memories, Wearing
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