Author: Jeff Shapiro

Still, you have your pencil…
The paper black on one side, white on the other…
The silence, like a distant dream…
The words materializing like magic.

Here your story begins…

It all happens through your footsteps…
Beginning with a simple hello…
With the intent never to dim another’s brightness…
As you sort through chunks of rainbow.

Pages and pages of observations…
Simple, not too adorned…
Hmmm…you have a choice to make…
Do you choose the law of kindness…
Or do you choose the law of war.

Your story begins over and over again…
Each sentence announcing your arrival…
Like dressing on a salad…
Filling all the less flavorful spaces.

Yes, you still have your pencil…
So what if it might rain tomorrow…
You can spend more time looking for rainbows…
And create, create, create!

I love you,

Annie

I see everything in you as good…
Your faults don’t need to be corrected…
There are no eyes staring at you from the shadows…
Every moment is just another sentence in your story.

If you listen you will see that language is just a melody…
A wild, familiar music…
Like a tumbling waterfall…
The music follows you everywhere.

I know that someday, today will be just a memory…
Yep, another miracle in the books…
Yet strangely there will always be remnants that come with you…
Like that sand from the beach, you can never get out of your shoe.

You will never be able to figure out unkindness…
So much deceit and duplicity…
Too many simple, awful, facts…
But unfortunately, that is how the wilderness works.

I would like to share the words of my Grandmuppy…
There was magic in those old, wrinkled paws…
She told me to enjoy life, get out there, help someone in need…
When you show compassion, you are swaying with the angels…
And your whole life will become a cosmic dance.

I love you,

Annie

What I do is Me…
I can be funny, I can be sad…
I know that I must always break patterns…
That is the tough part, and yeah, there’s a lot of those things to break!

What You do is You…
Yep, that’s You, poking through the broken shards…
Always keeping Your eyes focused on the blue…
Growing more beautiful each day in Your place in the sun.

We both have different loves…

I love dragon flies…
Seeking cool forests…
Smelling the roses and the violets…
Solving delicious mysteries.

You, each day, have an entirely new flavor…
All sprinkled with kindness…
Never having to rely on new tricks, or being someone else…
Because You are perfect just the way you are.

But we are both happiest when we live in peace…
When We are here life is a party, a grand celebration…
A place where We don’t have to understand…
A place where We can look at ourselves and forgive.

I love you,

Annie

I come from Here…
From a place called Now…
Lightly scented with rosemary and lavender…
Spiced with a tinge of cinnamon.

Each day I’m made anew…
So, I can go about strewing newness to everyone I meet…
I have learned that everything is just a reflection of one thing…
So simple it is written on every seed.

And in each moment…
Nature’s fashion always changes…
From the everyday blues and grays…
To the noble reds and golds.

I always ask the question…

When was this story written?
It seems to be missing the copyright page…
Yet it continues to bubble over with truth…
Like the melodies hidden within a guitar.

Do you know how much this oneness costs?
Does it even have a price?
You don’t have to be a billionaire to own it?
It is free, something everyone can have, but no one can buy.

I love you,

Annie

Do you think this world has a soul?
You know beneath all the rock, flames and scraggly stuff?
It always seems to be screaming, “Accessorize! Accessorize!”
Yes, it has all the colors…

How about a cricket?
There’s definitely something going on there…
I rub my back legs together and not even a squeak!
What is he/she trying to say to me?

I know one of these days I’m going to figure it all out…
I’ll try again tomorrow…
Everything in this world is continually changing…
Including me.

Doesn’t life sometimes feel like a barrel of remnants?
But I have learned that I can’t hurry the answers I just have to wait…
For me, it is like waiting for silt to settle in a stream…
When I jump in, I can’t see the bottom…
But if I stand very still, it soon becomes clear.

I love you,

Annie

I never earned this grace…
A gift, why?
The intricate, innocent face of nature…
Given by an all-caring hand.

I listen, and am beginning to understand…
Birds singing the same song…
The bullfrog plopping into a pond…
The life in that new log on the riverbank.

There is always a faint outline of who She is…
Sometimes sitting alone behind Her canvas…
Dotting, the black tinged sky with stars…
Creating the original “Starry Night.”

She always draws me to the same compass point…
Over rocks, under trees, around, between…
Into that rare air…
The reflected light.

With every new awakening I realize, “Of course!”
Tying a few more elements into place…
Such a brilliant atmosphere…
Always returning to that intricate, innocent face.

I love you,

Annie

This morning, I realized…

I have space for the whole world in my little heart…
My words can move across the waters…
My love can touch the people and puppies I miss so much…
All carried on an eternal wind.

This is so different from my shielded heart…
Where I feel separated from the great chain of being…
A babel of growling, barking and confusion…
Reaching singularly up to the sky.

But it doesn’t have to be that way….

Come on! The caravan is beginning to move…
Let’s join the great pilgrimage…
It is time to get dirty!
And turn like flowers towards the sun.

Oh, what it must be like to live an unguarded life…
Like a warm copper color from a fireplace glow…
Like putting on the universe to go out and play…
Everything, right out in the clear, blue, open.

My eyes can’t stand anymore light than this…
Every moment, a new surprise…
I do a cursory spin…
Yep, my little heart is big enough for it all.

I love you,

Annie

When I sit in a pine tree…
The sap always finds me…
Without giving any notice…
Splat! Yuch! Wet and sticky!

Yet, I always go there…

Through the branches I can see a rich and colored tapestry…
The dangling arches from the willows…
Black and white and all shades of gray…
A language I knew but somehow forgotten.

So much deep color and contrast…
All given to me by a King and Queen…
Nature giggling and smiling…
I can read the words off its’ face.

Here, I am unable to understand sarcasm…
Don’t know anything about the wreckage of life…
Wonder why I want to be so many other people…
When the universe never asks…
“Why aren’t you someone else?”

Heaven, what a wonderful thought…
Where tennis balls are thrown by someone I love…
Sunshine and blue sky and all my animal friends…
Wait a minute!
Isn’t that where I am now?

I love you,

Annie

Do you want to be spiritual?
If yes, you will have to speak the truth about those old wounds…
Open the door holding back those haunting memories…
Stop sitting in the seat of the maestro.

Being vulnerable is what makes you great…
Able to unravel the truth behind the questions…
Allow you to turn anything into gold…
Sort out all those ragged edges.

So, blink!
Stop waiting for something to happen…
There are doubts with every decision…
It is okay if something is amiss.

Look at me!
I was not designed to fight bears…
But I have found that with one good bop on the nose…
They all run away.

Yep, being vulnerable is the elixir to life…
You won’t need little shelves to hide this or that…
You won’t need to react to every circus act around you…
Just be yourself…
Then everyone will love you, like everyone loves me.

I love you,

Annie

This morning, I discovered a new feeling…
No, no, it was two…
They gave me happy reactions…
Feelings about the wild and the calm

The wild is exciting because it brings adventure…
Adventure that makes me think of my great, great, great grandpuppy…
Rumor has it that he was a short-legged, spotted hyena…
They say I have his bark!

Oh, the feeling of the wild!
It feels like that is where I am meant to be…
But too much wilderness can take a toll…
There are so many things that bite, sting and snap.

The other feeling is quite the opposite…

Ahhh…to be calm…
Lazy and yet skilled…
Like a winged lion…
Who today, has decided not to fly…

Mmm, another nap…
So many rabbits to chase…
My butler giving soft belly rubs…
Curled next to my favorite toys.

The calm brings me consolation…
A break from continually running and fetching…
I don’t know which feeling is the best…
All my feelings are gifts, oh my, what a wonderful collection.

I love you,

Annie