Winter always feels like nature’s way of pressing pause, giving us time to reflect and recharge. In these quieter moments, I’ve discovered that the warmth of past adventures, heartfelt connections, and cherished memories bring a little sunshine to my snowy days. So even when the world outside is a blanket of white, I remind myself there’s always a bit of summer within me, waiting to shine through.
The trees droop laden with the innocence of snow. Footprints lead the way to somewhere you want to go. While the season chills us we still wander through magic days. Enjoy. -Mandy Ricks
Maybe it feels like the world is in chaos, with a maniac at the helm yelling, “bring on the fire.” Maybe you feel like running away. But trust, calm will return, wrapped in your insight, and you will want to go home again. -Mandy Ricks
Sometimes, against all odds, all logic, we still hope.
That’s what the holidays are all about: hope.
-Mandy Ricks
So, here we are, dare I say again, holding each other tight, perhaps in an effort to stop from falling apart.
But things do change, and maybe they will for us too. And then we can hold each other close, out of love instead of love instead of desperation. -Mandy Ricks
I’d rather see your battle scars. Your lines, wrinkles, and wounds, Than you facade. -Mandy Ricks
I am looking for a lovely quiet place where I can listen to the silence. -Mandy Ricks
Writing can be hard for me, but I feel compelled to continue. To find thoughts that draw pictures and sentences that explain thoughts. To offer intrigue, comfort, and hope. To trigger memories. Maybe sometimes sadness and traumas. Because all of these make up and include life. Astounding and compelling life. The same life that we give thanks for. -Mandy Ricks
Evening rolls in, softly, gently, a soothing reprieve.
And as the leaves turn and drop with graceful harmony so does my need to please.
-Mandy Ricks
Do small things with great love.
I began to write poems when I was a child. Late at night, in bed, alone with my pen.
My mother and her partner would drunkenly fight and I would write about horses and sunshine.
-Mandy Ricks
Is it the rain that makes me sad or is it the ache of emptiness that once was you?
Perhaps I just need to wait for the sun to return and warm my thoughts.
-Mandy Ricks
Mandy Ricks 