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Danielle Rizzo
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Roar.
Roar.

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And the Opposite Is Also True
A few weeks ago, I wrote about Where Consciousness Resides , suggesting that the part of us that thinks and feels abides somewhere in parallel to the part that moves and talks, and I often feel that's true. But shortly after writing that, I was taken down w...

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Where Consciousness Resides
Some have speculated that consciousness leaves the body when we die but I question whether consciousness has ever resided in a body. As someone who spends a lot of time observing, I am often on the sidelines of a social situation, contentedly and quietly ta...

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Resolution.
The world in which a quiet tree can suddenly erupt with the surprise of a thousand wings taking flight and the one in which nature has conceived for the young to pass from a nest of bones into a bed of arms as they emerge into the world is the one into whic...

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Nowhere
I hope we go to the same Nowhere when we die that is the source of the first few lines of a poem that arise in the back of our minds. And I hope when we arrive that it tugs at us like those first lines do to follow It, and work out to completion what was on...

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Tomorrow, too
This morning it was 50 degrees out and I went for a slow run on the trails around our house. The days are passed when the leaves fall like rain but a few were still dropping  and a thick layer of them crackled under foot with each step. Against the gray sky...

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If you look for it, you'll always find a meaning.
One day when my eldest daughter was in second grade, I wrote her a note and tucked it into her lunchbox. She liked it so much that she asked for one the second day. On the second day, I made it a silly poem. She wanted one again and again. My first theme wa...

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The Two Wonders
There are two basic concepts that baffle me-- concepts so fundamental to existence that their meaning should be obvious, but I don't think they ever will be. Not to me. The first one is the simple truth of Death. The departure of a soul from the flesh to wh...

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You were never one for poetry, But I like to think you saw it in the simple things, Because you walked the woods that made me wonder as a child, The ones that made me dream. And the woods are made of spaces between trees, Just like a poem is made of spaces ...

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New Wine
I followed your footprints out to the curb Instead of making my own set of tracks In the snow. And my feet are smaller than yours, So they fit exactly into your path, Like the cork that was snug in the bottle Of wine til we sprang it the night before. I sud...
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