these moments of knowing and truth
so easily lost again
hidden
not lost
but once experienced can never be undone
you will know that it exists and will seek it out again
Bee Houghton
she is the painter
and though she knows it not
nor has touched a canvas
in many moons gone by
she is the painter
Bee Houghton
He clings to us for comfort
Because we are the closest thing he has to you
But we are not you
We can never be you
And the hollow look in his eyes remains
Bee Houghton
He still looks for you …
hoping you will appear from the spirit world and
return to him
Without you he is
Singular
Bee Houghton
Beauty is an inner grace
of which we know
no boundaries
Bee Houghton
Alive
Breathing
Soaking in life
Fresh
Wide eyed
Aware
Sigh
Bee Houghton
as the sun filters our view
our perception filters through our actions
Bee Houghton
