Can you hear the sound?
The slow crack —
Not of dawn, no, no.
Not glorious nor magnificent.
Excruciating, of dying.
It’s like glass kissing
The concrete floor
Pointed shards scattering
No picking up the pieces, no, no
It’s ground like the finest dust
The sound of pain
Broken beyond repair.
I’m an indie author writing diverse, cross-genre fiction. I have a curated monthly newsletter, CruiZings, on topics of creativity, productivity, and positivity. Subscribe HERE and get a FREE BOOK.
✴️ My first motto for the year: (First because I’m sure there will be more, as situations come and go)
✴️ Keep calm, self, even when deadlines are nearing. Don’t panic. Take a hold of your heart and tell yourself, “I can do this!” and then do it. Stop making excuses, looking for reasons, or dilly-dallying. Don’t just think of your goals. MAKE THEM HAPPEN.
✴️ Keep calm, self, even when words do not seem to flow freely. Breathe in, breathe out, tinker in the kitchen, watch a movie, read a book, draw or paint, sleep if you must. You’ll…
I remember when
I was but three —
I sat upon your knee
A babe, your source of glee.
Then I was ten and three
Pretty, young, and carefree
You smiled as I asked about life
To hide your fears from me.
When I was twenty and three
You wept as my heart was crushed
But still, gently you taught me
It’ll heal, just do not rush.
And then, I was thirty and three
When my son took my place
Bouncing on your knees
Bringing back your happy face.
But forty and three I curse
For our roles were reversed
When you who were once strong
Became weak, sick, and worn.
Now I am three and fifty
You are gone, you left me
But hope remains in me
One day, again, together, we’ll be.
~ Mayumi Cruz 1/10/2021
For the raging storms and battering rains
And after, the warm embrace of the sun’s rays —
For every drop of bitter, sad tear
And countless peals of laughter after —
For hours of anxiety over illness
And the untold joy of relief upon healing —
For the grief of a beloved’s passing
And the happiness a new life brings —
No matter what —
Despite, and because of —
Above everything that’s happened
And may happen still —
Thank You, dear God.
Bountiful praises and glory
We give unto Thee.
As the brutal legion
bearing crown-like spikes
rages war and chaos
Our heroes fight.
Their shields are scrubs
Their capes, masks
Their powers, grit
and caring, golden hearts.
Yet they tire and weep
they fear, they get dismayed
and just like us mere mortals
their lungs lose the battle.
Crownless they may be
yet heroes forever still.
Come, let’s, their courage sing
in ever remembrance.
Following the recent Twitter noise about the arguments between prolific author Nora Roberts and a (foolish) reader, it’s natural to assume that this post takes that up.
Early Disclaimer: This post isn’t anything about that. (I wouldn’t dare!)
Quite the contrary, in fact.
Are you on Twitter? If you are, I’m sure you haven’t missed the round of tweets about how prolific author Nora Roberts put a fan-reader in her rightful place.
Nora Roberts rarely makes herself heard on social media, but when she does, you couldn’t help but listen. …
This is Erica’s poem to Melvin in my award-winning romantic psychological thriller, Chroma Hearts. It plays a pivotal role in the book. Chroma Hearts is available on Amazon.
How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love you with a love
that springs from the deepest recesses of my heart
And emanates from the very abyss of my soul.
I love you as the soil thirsts for the rain
and hungers for the warmth of the sun.
I love you with the passion of a smoldering fire
Which ardor lives for your embrace.
I love you on…
Candy-colored arc in the sky
Sending a message from God up high
Its bright and brilliant hues
Echo His voice — so clear, so true.
“Hold on to Faith
Let Hope always soar
May your heart be filled always with Love.”
Life can be a rainbow
If we remember to sow
Only good and kind things
Everywhere we go.