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Friday Figment: LEAF LAUREATE

Let's hop on this dying leaf.
We'll float on air's palm, as it cradles us downward.
With each turn, we'll pretend we veer across kingdoms and carnivals.

We'll laugh with open mouths to swallow the wind.
Sometimes we'll taste the faint frost of a northern breeze.
Sometimes the southern gusts will swoop us in a loop of fragrant honey.

We'll keep falling.

And when the grasses of a waiting world zero in, we'll cling to each other.
Does it bruise, hitting the ground?
I believe we will be okay.

See Leaf Laureate on Youtube!

Photo attribution: Vincent Van Gogh, "The fall of the leaves"  Vincent van Gogh [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
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Lyrics: Here's Your Kiss Goodnight

Here's your kiss goodnight
Just one minute more
Outside my door
I don't want
To let you go
Tonight the moon is low
And white
So here's your kiss goodnight

Here's your kiss goodnight
Too close to care
'Bout the chill in the air
No words
We both agree
Just one more before you leave
My sight
So here's your kiss goodnight


Sleepy baby panda naps on a dolphin and drools into the sea. The dolphin has tied to the bear's tail rosy red ribbons that float on the waves. At the shore, sandcastles wash away with the tide. Sleepy baby panda rolls through their gates.
Stop snoring, Panda. The salt from the sea is drying stiff and gritty in your hair. Your paws will feel sticky! You'll smell like fish dried on the beach. The dolphin has long slipped back into the dawn-lit water. Wake up, Panda, and be on your way.

Photo Credit: Tux-t-penguin on Deviant Art

Friday Figment: LONGING LIGHTS

When the night is so late that the wolves have stopped howling and the lambs can sleep, I like to wish on the stars that are farthest away, pinpricks as faded as last year's dreams.

Someday I will hold a star like that in my hands, and watch how it illuminates my family around me. My husband will glow as transparent as a dragonfly wing. My three year old will shimmer like sunlight on the lake. Maybe I will see the tea light flame of our new baby's heart fluttering deep in my womb.

I imagine that, just before the star floats away like a seed on the wind, in that fleeting glimpse, I won't have any worry. Everything will be peace as firm and soft as fleece.

For now, I only pull at my cloak and simply look at that far away star I will someday hold, believing with all my heart that in the depth of every night there are the warm lights of a trillion mornings we are just too far away to feel.

Photo: Jean-Fran├žois Millet [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Forever Faye

Faye, your presence is such a fascination to me. Thank you for knowing I wanted you here.  Thank you for your tender patience.  Thank you for how happy you feel to be here. 
Thank you for continuing my journey of motherhood.  I hope I bless you.  I hope I give you all I can and that together we'll grow in joy and love for God, for heaven and family I am filled with joy and hope and I thank you a thousand times for being you. You are every treasure you were promised to be.
Photography by Anna Alyse Visit


There you go again, not listening
Do realize I'm outside
While you close your eyes
You're drifting, falling
In the cracks of a past you keep on

Rusted galleries of foggy memories
Still choosing ghosts
Overdosed on a broken road of
Heartache, mistakes
Giving strength to a cage, you give your
Days away

Taste the sun
Embrace the love
You gotta live for this
Untie the sky outside your mind
And live for this
Over and over again,
Closer and closer to when
You hit the edge and there's nothing left
Live for This

And tomorrow plays  A familiar game
I'm losing to a dream that
Gleams with a steam that Isn't really here, disappears,  What's the use of a future sleeping  Through the years?

Photo: By Hiart (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons

Friday Figments: Petal Pedagogy

Cherry blossoms on the branch
Draw your gaze into a trance
of candy pink, and petals grant
a fragrance stirred in France.
After winter's avalanche
of snowflakes on the grass
Spring explodes the sky with strands
of budding beds for romance.
The decorated heavens brag
A cycle sweet to understand.

Photography by Anna Harrison
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Lyrics: I Am Divine

One of my favorite things about being a part of this album is the gift it's been to my kids. How many parents are lucky enough to put their philosophies and life lessons to music that their kids will totally sing along to? Seriously.

The other day I found a note my oldest daughter had written for a friend. She was encouraging the friend to disregard some bullies at school, telling her how awesome she was (in proper pre-teen lingo of course). I read along (yes, snoopy mom) and eventually found the lyrics to I am Divine that she had memorized.

I always think of Stefanie, my sister, when I remember writing this song. Okay, I have reason to think about her in almost every song on this album, (now that the memories of her proof reading each one as I wrote them are treasure chest preserved). The song wasn't about her, but for some reason it was for her, fueled by some kind of desire to explain something I can't explain. Back when it was just a page in a binder, she reviewed it …

New Video: Lullaby Living

Too Much

I went to my grandfather for a blessing once while I was in college. Life was squeezing me through some insurmountable pressure, and I felt lucky I had him nearby. He’s been a constant spiritual leader in my life. He’s who Tenorio is named after.
English is not his first language, and I thought he’d offer the blessing in Spanish, but he took a go at the English anyway, delivering a message of comfort, courage and faith. When he finished the blessing he hugged me, and among other phrases of broken English he reassured me again and again, "The Lord loves you too much. The Lord loves you too much."
Mentally, I corrected him. He meant so much or very much. But let’s entertain my grandfather’s original wording for just a moment and absorb the idea that maybe the Lord does love us too much.
He appeared to Joseph Smith in flesh and bone so that we could have a human witness of Him—wasn’t that too much?
He gave us the Book of Mormon to be a witness, testimony and teacher to us. He…

Friday Figments: THIN THREAD

A white thread hangs from the sky. People on the street walk past it, hats on their heads, hands in their pockets, eyes on each foot fall. One tug and clouds might spill down like a waterfall of iridescent bubbles, floating as they fall to pop on the ground. One pull and colorful prisms could illuminate the sky the way a light switch enlivens a ceiling of chandeliers. One pinch of that silent thread and a flock of captive doves might be set free, their wings beating a breeze as fragrant as pink petunias. The thread may not even know what it's for. 
      Someday someone will notice it, after the strand lingers on someone's cheek just long enough to wake them from their stroll on the street. And that someone will look up to know how he, or she, came to be touched. It may be raining, or the sun relentlessly heating, but a hand will lift, find the thread among its fingers, grab hold and discover. 

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