Thursday, December 17, 2015

Chilly Shoulders

Chilly Shoulders
By Teri H Hoover©

Chilly shoulders.
The new black shawl.
Smooth and tidy, the pilling has not yet begun.
I wonder how long until that first unsightly snag.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015


Waiting by Teri H Hoover©

Listless and ungrounded
the tethers are snapping

A cacophony of silence
breaks the heart and
light illuminates the ashes.


Sunday, July 05, 2015

Patching it Back Together

Patching it Back Together by Teri H Hoover©
Sunday July 5, 2015
The Sunday Whirl #206

Escaping the bed of bones,
In the shade of the splintered heart,
a quilt lays open upon the grass.

The sadness dried like clay and cracking
in the collapse of the walls.
Whirls to dust, one grain grapples for safety.

Black crow turns its head toward a song in the trees.

The Words: quilts, grain, heart, crows, escaping, open, collapse, clay, splintered, crack, crawled, bones

Monday, January 26, 2015

Into This Heart

01-24-1015- Into This Heart by Teri H Hoover©
for my friend Sharmon

The Cascades Trail, Pembroke, VA 1-2015

We stand reaching.
Leaning in
into this heart.
The tentative heart waiting
to arise unshackled
from the detritus. 
We stand reaching 
Even in our sleep
we are reaching.

 For my friend Sharmon

Monday, January 12, 2015

If I Go Straight

01-12-1015-If I Go Straight by Teri H Hoover©
Link to: Sunday Whirl- #195 and Heart Macro #86- Shine the Divine

 Cascade Trail, Pembroke, VA

The story is not new.  I write words of wondering every once in a while. I muse along, wandering. I may find a point to share - or I may just be grateful. This will be a place holder for today. If I go straight with intention I will find myself in just this place. It is the intention within the faulty prayer I pray. I am consoled in my moments of awkward searching. My intentions are made straight with Gods grace. My mind wonders, I wander. But in  this intention I go forward with grace. I repeat myself. With so many words. The curves I love, wind around me embracing this heart. It must be winter again.

 Lichen Hearts
Cascade Trail, Pembroke, VA

I do not capitulate myself to an inky channel. Rather I render myself free. I am not listless; appearances deceive. I am only bobbing up and down on the nearly frozen water.  A single leaf  with an invisible anchor.  Smudged into a layer of  lethargy and resigned to the ennui of winter, where the smell of life is remembered. To generate a thought the heart must first hear more than silence. If I go straight there will beginnings after this ends. 

A list of words from the Sunday Whirl #195-