(cute)

cute:
a chirp from
my happy cat

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Healing Like a Whisper

It's funny how healing arrives
so quietly,
so gracefully,
in such contrast to the
rage and unmanageable
chaos of unhealthy
relationships, addictions
and personal pandemonium
that blow in like a hurricane,
exploiting your most
precious possessions;
ripping life right out
of your fingertips.

The peace appears
so softly,
so subtly,
on tiptoes;
without introduction --
like a whisper --
telling me that health
and new life are here;
that the things which once
consumed me no longer
burn within me, but have
been relinquished and
replaced with healing balm.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Bookstore Boar

"We have a no-snoring
policy," she assured me
from behind the counter.
The large man in the
true blue sweat suit and
camouflaged vest had been
disturbing my reading for
10 minutes and counting.
The deep, nasal vacuum
vortex sounded more like
an industrial machine
than a man. The barista
called for the manager
as I angrily took out
my notebook to write.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Good Use of Time

I read a poem during the
three minutes my
tea was steeping.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

I'm Becoming a True Introvert

My favorite evenings consist of
a big bowl of mint chocolate chip
ice cream and an equally tasty book.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

My Girl

She knows how to be
cute.
She knows just the
right pose or look
to give me that will
send me into a
state of acute
appreciation --
the kind that seizes
me until I pet her velvet
coat.
She knows the cutest
ways to meow and
purr and stir her paws.

And she knows it.

She knows she's
cute.
And there's no way
I can help myself
from loving and
stroking and cooing
and thinking how
lucky I am to have
found her.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Bliss

Sitting at home with
a new book,
new magazine
and two new CDs.

More Bliss:

All bought on sale.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

In Those Last Moments

What must it have been like
to know that you were about
to be torturously beaten and
brutally crucified? I wonder
if He reviewed His time on
earth in the Garden of
Gethsemane, flipping
through the slide show of
His mind. Did He think of
His family -- His father's
smile, His mother's embrace,
His siblings' laughter --
His favorite adventures,
His favorite foods, His closest
friends? Did He rub His hands
and feet, nauseous at the
thought of the massive nails
ripping their muscles and
snapping their bones? I wonder
if, in His mind's eye -- with the eye
of the Spirit -- He saw the faces
of those He healed and
delivered, and the faces
of all those yet to be freed.
Ultimately, in those last
moments, He saw the face
of God, the will of His Father.
He said "no" to His flesh and
His emotions and "yes" to the
Kingdom of Heaven, as
He knelt one last time and
said, in essence,
"Your Kingdom come.
Your will be done."

© 2007 Amy E. Hall