Summer rushes in on the heels of spring, eager to take her turn; and then she dances with wild abandon. But the time soon comes when she gratefully falls, exhausted and sated, into the auburn arms of autumn.

Sometimes the purpose of the rose is simply to draw attention to the rose.

Maybe the moon just lost herself gazing too long at the brilliance of the sun and that’s how she got her glow. And maybe we’re made of the same mysterious sort of magic that makes us magnify and mirror whatever we look at the most.

Sometimes what’s dead must be burned away to make room for new life. Sometimes you just have to step back and let the brittle bits ignite - but once those flames begin to dance their caustic dance, don’t you dare look the other way. Don’t close your eyes. Watch closely and let that image seer itself forever on your mind. Remember what it looked like in the midst of the soot, the smoke, and the haze. Remember, so you don’t repeat the same conditions that required such a blaze.

Let's nurture our spirits until they shine; and then let's strip down to our naked souls and dance through life until we drop little bits of light behind us that glow like fireflies in the night.

Be still my hand and let the words write themselves upon my heart. Be still my heart and let your pages be filled in silence.

Listen closely. Even the trees exhale sweet love songs that roll off their boughs and echo out to all of creation. Love is always in the air.

We are all the authors of our own fates; but we have gotten so lost in the technicalities of forming letters and stringing words together that we've forgotten what it really means to write.

Be careful not to laugh at the Phoenix when she goes up in flames, or you'll be left in the dust when she grows her new wings and flies swiftly away.