I wish you the sweetness of sticky kisses,
the fragrance of muddy bouquets of weeds,
the simplicity of macaroni necklaces,
the warmth of bedtime snuggles,
the promise of beautiful tomorrows.
I wish you the hope to carry your heart
through the hard times,
the grace to forgive your inevitable mistakes,
the strength to start again every morning,
the wisdom to enjoy the journey.
I wish you enough joy and laughter in the present
to fill the silence that comes too soon
when life grows quiet and rooms grow still
and your heart beats in constant prayer
for the once-small feet
that now choose their own path
guided by the whisper of their childhood.

I hope you gaze at cloud art galleries
against azure summer skies
and pause to gasp at rainbows
and watch butterflies fly by;
I hope wildflowers make you happy
and sad songs make you cry
and old books stacked in dusty nooks
are gems you can't pass by;
I hope burnt toast mornings
are little things
you handle with a smile
and midnight talks and starlit walks
keep you up once in awhile;
I hope laundry warm from the dryer
brings a sigh of contentment
and front porch swings on cool evenings
offer rest when you are spent;
I hope your life is light in sorrow
and heavy with laughter
and you greet each season of your life
like a new favorite chapter;
I hope you honor every soul you meet
and always go that extra mile
and when you think of me, my love,
I hope it's with a smile.

I dream of Morocco and Paris, and a koi pond in the backyard. Making art, supporting art, learning art. Late-night talks with soul sisters who make me feel crazy blessed and motivated. Stage presence. Books and more books. Film. Belly laughs. I dream about communion. My man. Our son. Always. I dream of sitting around a fire with leaders and lovers of progress. Being able to give yeses that open doors and new dimensions for people. I dream of tenderness and innovation. I dream of invitations that humble me, and magical connections with people I recognize on a cellular level. I dream that we band together to leverage change. I dream of feeling more electric and sweet every single day. Mostly, I dream of being amazed. How ’bout you?

I love the stillness of the wood;
I love the music of the rill:
I love the couch in pensive mood
Upon some silent hill.

Scarce heard, beneath yon arching trees,
The silver-crested ripples pass;
and, like a mimic brook, the breeze
Whispers among the grass.

Here from the world I win release,
Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude,
Break into mar the holy peace
Of this great solitude.

Here may the silent tears I weep
Lull the vested spirit into rest,
As infants sob themselves to sleep
Upon a mothers breast.

But when the bitter hour is gone,
And the keen throbbing pangs are still,
Oh, sweetest then to couch alone
Upon some silent hill!

To live in joys that once have been,
To put the cold world out of sight,
And deck life's drear and barren scene
With hues of rainbow-light.

For what to man the gift of breath,
If sorrow be his lot below;
If all the day that ends in death
Be dark with clouds of woe?

Shall the poor transport of an hour
Repay long years of sore distress — The fragrance of a lonely flower
Make glad the wilderness?

Ye golden house of life's young spring,
Of innocence, of love and truth!
Bright, beyond all imagining,
Thou fairy-dream of youth!

I'd give all wealth that years have piled,
The slow result of Life's decay,
To be once more a little child
For one bright summer's day.

I am convinced that the greatest legacy we can leave our children are happy memories: those precious moments so much like pebbles on the beach that are plucked from the white sand and placed in tiny boxes that lay undisturbed on tall shelves until one day they spill out and time repeats itself, with joy and sweet sadness, in the child now an adult.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I want my child to be happy. How can such a simple wish be so terribly scary?

Lines for My Daughter

With reverence for the earth you venture
into vague margins of advancing rain
and behold crystals of the sailing sun.

The clouds weave ribbons of shade and eclipse,
rippling on the colors that compose you,
sand, sienna, jade, the speckled turquoise

of mountain skies. And in your supple mind
there are shaped the legends of creation,
and in them you appear as dawn appears,

beautiful in the whispers of the wind,
whole among the soft syllables of myth
and the rhythms of serpentine rivers.

Once more you venture. The long days darken
In the wake of your going, and thunder
Rolls, bearing you across a ridge of dreams.

I follow on the drifts of sweetgrass and smoke,
On a meadow path of pollen I walk,
And hold fast the great gift of your being.

"I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" — one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.

You are dreaming, children,
dreams dearer than gold, more blest
than the Blest beyond the North Wind's raging.
Dreams are easy, oh,
but the double lash is striking home.

Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.

I Have A Dream

I'd give all the wealth that years have piled,
the slow result of life's decay,
To be once more a little child
for one bright summer day.

Daydreamer, dream on. Never forget that you are a one-of-a-kind, never-before-seen, gift-to-the-world, and you've got a special purpose for being here. Raising children is beautiful and chaotic and wonder-filled, but you'll have a lot of life to live once your children are out of the early stages of intense need for your time and attention. So dream your dreams, and journal your thoughts and ideas, and don't be afraid to embrace the present, secure in the knowledge that your time will come.