"Hello," said the Moon.
"Good evening," replied the Stars.
"Looks like we're in for a beautiful starry night," winked the Moon.
"Yes. And would it seem we're going to have an eye in the sky to guide the way," chuckled the Stars.
And the Moon and the Stars laughed and smiled, and twinkled and wished, until it was time for them to turn the sky over to the Sun and the Clouds.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Monday, June 29, 2009
// Saturday, June 27, 2009
Today's Tendril...
| Exhaustion as a consequence of good clean fun is a badge of honor. Exhaustion as a consequence of being overworked, stressed out, and always irritable is a slippery slope to despair. |
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Monday, June 22, 2009
Today's Tendril...
| Stress is recognizing when your mental threads are starting to fray. |
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Sunday, June 21, 2009
Today's Tendril...
| Frustration occurs when the expectations of high principles run into the brick walls of shortsightedness, fluid compromise, and greed. |
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Friday, June 19, 2009
My Daily Tendrils
Balance. Clarity. Focus. Serenity.
My daily grails.
Strength. Courage. Endurance. Regulation.
My daily prayers.
Faith. Hope. Love. Dreams. Family.
My daily fuel.
My daily breaths.
My daily bread.
My daily grails.
Strength. Courage. Endurance. Regulation.
My daily prayers.
Faith. Hope. Love. Dreams. Family.
My daily fuel.
My daily breaths.
My daily bread.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Monday, June 08, 2009
On the Inside (Sadness Part 3)
"Sometimes I feel overwhelmed," he said, his eyes fixed to the floor.
"I know you do," she whispered.
"Then I think of you – and I smile." A tear slid down his cheek.
She cupped his face in her soft, warm hands, brought his eyes to hers, and said, "As long as I'm in your heart, then let the world stay outside. We'll be inside, together, where nothing can hurt us. Not now. Not ever."
He smiled.
She smiled.
And for a little while, the world became their smiles — at least on the inside.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
"I know you do," she whispered.
"Then I think of you – and I smile." A tear slid down his cheek.
She cupped his face in her soft, warm hands, brought his eyes to hers, and said, "As long as I'm in your heart, then let the world stay outside. We'll be inside, together, where nothing can hurt us. Not now. Not ever."
He smiled.
She smiled.
And for a little while, the world became their smiles — at least on the inside.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
The Ghosts of Sorrow (Sadness Part 2)
An open switch,
An open wound.
Those vacant eyes,
A soul marooned.
Constricted hope,
And drying tears.
There's no relief,
From deathbed fears.
No hands to hold,
No fight remains.
What prayers to say?
When the spirit wanes.
An open wound.
Those vacant eyes,
A soul marooned.
Constricted hope,
And drying tears.
There's no relief,
From deathbed fears.
No hands to hold,
No fight remains.
What prayers to say?
When the spirit wanes.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
A Breath Away from Dust (Sadness Part 1)
Once upon a time the man in the mirror was a child.
A child with tireless hands,
a strong heart,
and access to an endless garden of ever ripening fruit.
But the vine of intention has long since withered,
its roots receded;
decayed.
The endless garden is now but a patch of brown,
a poor plot of earth,
and just a breeze
and a breath
away from dust.
Once upon a time the mirror held a child.
Now all that remains are wrinkles of worry,
bags of regret,
a fixed frown,
and a lifetime of lists—
lists that only hold a handful of checkmarks.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
A child with tireless hands,
a strong heart,
and access to an endless garden of ever ripening fruit.
But the vine of intention has long since withered,
its roots receded;
decayed.
The endless garden is now but a patch of brown,
a poor plot of earth,
and just a breeze
and a breath
away from dust.
Once upon a time the mirror held a child.
Now all that remains are wrinkles of worry,
bags of regret,
a fixed frown,
and a lifetime of lists—
lists that only hold a handful of checkmarks.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Friday, June 05, 2009
Today's Tendril...
Buffering reality one thought at a time,
And twisting them out of their tight
mental shell.
On paper, on screen, in folders and files,
All pieces of me,
And each in its cell.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
And twisting them out of their tight
mental shell.
On paper, on screen, in folders and files,
All pieces of me,
And each in its cell.
Alternate Version
Buffering reality one thought at a time,
Then twisting them out of the grey-matter shell.
On paper, on screen, in folders and files,
A lifetime of progress,
A path I know well.
Then twisting them out of the grey-matter shell.
On paper, on screen, in folders and files,
A lifetime of progress,
A path I know well.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.