Here comes Willow,
Her hands on the wheel.
Her eyes on the road —
Calm eyes, like steel.



A coffee steaming,
The radio on.
She’s alone —
But not for long.



Here comes Willow,
Coffee stain on her sleeve. 

She’s all she’s got  —

And that’s all she needs.  

If you ask her,
She’ll tell about it:
”God’s got a plan —
You’ve just gotta trust it.”



Growth is a road,
And pain is the toll,
But here comes Willow —
Steel eyes on her goal.



She’ll get there tomorrow,
She’s learned someday takes years.
She’ll tell you, “no —
Someday is here.”

sparrow poem

In the masterful way
A sparrow has
Of making his voice heard,
I want you to hear mine.

If that sparrow couldn't sing
For as long as I've been silent
He'd burst.
He'd still fly, though —

Silent —
He'd still flit over the mountains
Still ruffle a feather
For a lady sparrow lover.

Still he'd breathe
Soft little sparrow sighs
Tell his girl
White little sparrow lies...

"Why don't you sing?" she'd ask
And he'd sigh,
"Girl, I'd love to but —
I just can't find the time."

See, finding your voice
Is a complicated thing.
And using it —
Well, it's sometimes hard to sing.

That sparrow and I
We're of the same breed
We're in the same vein
He flies at my speed.

So fly away, sparrow,
Won't you fly along to me?
I'll dance to a tune
But only if you sing.

Find me.
I'm alone, stepped out of the game
I'm alone in the crowd
They don't know my name.

"Remember when you lost your voice?"
They ask,
And I smile,
"All too well — it's been a long time."

In the masterful way
That sparrow has
Of making his voice heard
I want you to hear mine.

On what happens after the barre

A ballet class begins at the barre. It's your home base and your friend and it keeps you standing up while trying to achieve the impossible (in other words, ballet.) The barre is what you come back to when you're not on your leg, when you're injured, and every morning when you come into the studio and attempt to move. It centers you. But then you get the hang of it and you let go a little and you might balance. For a second or two. And when you're all warm and comfortable and breathing right and moving right, and there's the barre when you need it - then you have to let go for good.

It seems impossible. Because you're standing on one leg and you're shaking and you're trying to remember what to do next. But you do it anyway.

Change is the same way. You do it anyway.

You let go of the barre and head to the center and all of a sudden you're trying to achieve the impossible again -- only this time, it's without help. And just like that, you arrive at the kind of movement ballet is known for, the movement that will change you.

A lot of people have asked me what this blog is supposed to be about. This is the clearest answer I can give.