Shared Strength

  My precious little bean A flower in her hair Eyes closed tight I dream A future bright and fair Her star shines bright Intelligent and kind Her beauty is a sight But pales to her mind At first I held her close Her blue eyes beamed Joy from head to toes Pure love it seamed. As she grew I did too Step by anxious step As parents often do Following in footstep.   Momma's little girl Daddy's little darling Gandma's little pearl Papa's always guarding   Tough she proved to be Challenges in time Where no match you see To her focused climb.   A smile lights the world And the quickest of wit Confidence to be bold And the grace to just sit.   A heart of fine lace To share God's kindness A sweet loving face Best not gaffed as weakness.   A life all her own We watch with esteem Into dreams unknown There goes our little Bean   My precious little bean A flower in her hair Eyes closed tight I dream A future bright and fair   Nicholas Campos - March 2024  ...

Her hair shines in the incandescent light. A big, bright bow illuminating childhood.   The precious innocence of a life yet lived.  Free of the calloused marks of self doubt.   From wounds prior, levied upon ones self.  She colors the clean page, each stroke unique.  Dancing across the sheet in a perfect chaos.  Her lips loosely clenched with eyes open wide.  As she brings life to what she knows inside.   Freckles, eyelashes, twinkling eyes of youth.  Nose crinkled, pink gloves, a posture like mom.  It is clear that which she works to become.  Moments, moments, so precious, so pure.  I want to always remember them perfectly.  Like her blank paper, this is how it must be.   A single perfect stroke of color, lost in the art.  Try to capture as I may, lost it is meant to be.  Lost perfectly in the great artist's masterpiece.  Lost in pale contrast to beauties next stroke.  I caught the moment to...

  Many evenings, my daughters ask for a story.  Not from a book or from famous fables, but one that I create for them or something that we craft together.  Last night was no different and as they say this is how the story goes... Once upon a time in a land far away lived two girls.  Their home was modest yet tranquil, built by generations before them.  Each day the girls tended to their garden.  During these times in the garden, they kept themselves distracted by dreaming of seeing the world.  At night they dreamed of the exotic and fabulous locations that they would one day see.  But each day they would toil out of necessity for their very survival.  Over time, as they became more skillful and confident in their craft, they began to find that their worry was less and their joy increased.  Almost without noticing the two girls began finding new and unique ways of caring for their responsibilities.  In time, they grew confident in me...

To be with you is pleasure, even though time together can sometimes become routine.  The magic hides well in the mundane and ordinary.  But your love is extraordinary in a way that words cannot describe.  As each of us must face our own insignificance, in a world that's made to forget. I find myself cleaving to the memories, passionate kisses, children's small voices and animals past.  The sadness, failures and illness are the trials that test and strengthen the bond.  Like a ship at sea, we bounce, rock and jolt in the unforgiving waters.  From hands up in excitement to holding on for dear life, we float along together.  Life is spent between low tide and high tide, we make our marks in the sand and cast about worried about the marks of others.  To live simply is best, but the pressure is to be different, unique and one of a kind, by being just like everyone else.  Our love is not fit for the free press, it is rocky, bumpy and filled with ba...

 The coals of the two room shanty house lay smoldering in the hot Arizona sun.  The day prior was just an ordinary day, the Madison School for education and then home to play in the barrio that was his home.  The shanty house was not much, just a little shade from the blazing sun in the Summer and generally dry protection from the monsoons in the Winter.  But now it was gone and to make the situation worse his older Sister Florinda is in the hospital.  It would be several hours until he learned that he would never see her again in this life.  Her passing marked the first moment of true sadness for the 9 year old boy, a pain that he thought could not be worse.   Life continued for the small Hispanic family, a new house was found and life slowly returned to normal for young Librado.  His Mom Josefia continued to show signs of great sadness from the passing of her daughter. His Mom was a beautiful woman from El Triunfo in Mexico's Baja Peninsula...

  I miss those I have lost along the way; I miss the way they smelled, smiled, angered, and cared.   In my youth I knew nothing of time, I had more than I wanted or could comprehend.   In a land of rising tomorrows another opportunity is just ahead.   As those individuals passed, I grew frustrated in my choices and my priorities.   Opportunities missed are now my burden to carry.   Just one more memory is now but a mirage.   As I grew into my own family, years of life stood before us, a land of rising tomorrows once more.   But each stage is fleeting in a growing child and the burden of choice begins anew.   As time passes, they grow, they change and develop, they are beautiful to watch in their own unique ways.   As they do, I celebrate their blossoming as a person and mourn the loss of the part of them that required me so dearly.   They are growing into a land of rising tomorrows of their own.   I will still carry a lifetim...

  In a simplistic sense our lives are the systematic process of compiling the decisions we make and the results that unfold.   Some decisions are good and others less desirable, some made from virtue and others out of necessity.   Individually these decisions do not seem that important, but aggregated together and compounded over time, these small decisions become a substantial portion of who we are.   As children, we are playable, a blank canvas of sorts.   It is a beautiful thing to see a child on the shoulders of their parent, playing catch in the front lawn or sitting together with their family at the dinner table.   Their growth and development occur as they learn from the decision making of their parents.   Some of these attributes will be developed in recognition of one’s parents and other will be developed in opposition. The good life appears from the outside, to be for the child who grows up with loving parents.   The kind who makes g...