Blue Mist of Angel Dust



My dear sweet Angel, Blue Mist of Angel dust

I’ve searched for you forever, as once our souls intertwined….identical twins, you see…

We were one, but you were called to a higher destiny. 

I didn’t understand, but it was a must. 

God chose you to speed, untouched ~ your mission to guide and sometimes carry

those, like myself, alone and at times, lost. 

The breath I feel, the slight airy mist encompasses me, for we will always be one….

I’ve searched, in my heart, to know you, not realizing you never left me….

You are the stars I am in awe, you are the glow of the sun. 

My dear, dear sister – the tears well up with joy, for I’ve found you. 

You’ve been there all along, I now feel whole, for we are one. 

I love my, my confidant, my family, myself….I am whole, the search can halt. 

I love you, my Angel, my sister, my other half.  


Written in memory of my identical twin sister.

New Shores Await Your Footprint…..


‎”Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” — Mark Twain (reposted from a friend because I love this!!!)..

How many times during our life we choose the “safe path,” believing there is one!  My quest at this time in my life, is to challenge my belief system, and listen to the smiles and glistening of my eyes to reflect which is the “right path.” 

My question is:  How do you make your decisions in life?  Your decisions are predicated upon what belief system? 





Oh, my ~ the lines upon my face, stubbed beard, broad brimmed hat

You shade my face from the heat as I yearn for nighttime to release me….

My back aches, as each muscle I have come to know only so well

Each muscle cries, as over the years the strain of gravity has pulled me to my knees….

I thought at this time in my life, imprisoned no longer, I’d now be free! 

Dreams abound, do they not, in everyone’s soul? 

I thought when I’d reached this age, no longer would I need to toil.

 It’s now no longer 1929, as I survived raw potatoes and dust,

everyone was walking away, and I knew I must. 


Yet, again, the straight line of fate has now encircled me,

as these lines do meet, and now I am back off my feet and onto my knee.

You must have surmised ~ I labor for my life,

my grandchild,

my wife….

It’s now 2009 and I shall bend yet again, earthen-must I shall breathe

my younger years, I pray, I can retrieve. 

(This is written for all the souls who’ve toiled in the sweltering hot sun, rays to burn and bronze the skin – I write for them as their endurance has much to teach me and I must learn, as our economy once again, returns to years long unvisited ~ my prayers are with our country and our leaders to make the right choices for all).. 

Lisa O’Hara, 12-22, 2008


The cobblestones she knows so well

The mist comforts her, embraces her

For in fear, she does not dwell.

She left him and found herself

As each cobblestone aligns her path.





African Voices



 African Voices

Night is approaching, a full moon shimmers
as I sit listening, listening, barely breathing.
Inherent sounds to Africa, awaken my senses,
scents of wild orchids,
scents of ferns,
a flush, molding decay of leaves bedding the floor.

The sound of a waterfall, roaring, finding its way to ponds
the ponds bring the greatest gift of all


The hooves pounding, are heard as giraffes’ silhouettes
are outlined, thundering across the savanna.
I sit, the moon highlighting a mood
like intercity dwellers coming home
from a Broadway show.

In Africa, like New York City, never a time of peace for all.
A civilization, within its own world, lives with nature.
The beasts live within their rhythm of time
obeying the laws that dwell deep within.

The call from within brings
for some, much delight
for some, much fright
A natural chance ensues.

City lights at 3:00 a.m.
In Africa, the stars the lights
I sit in the grassland and pray.

In distant lands, over the hills, naked to my eye
my heart beats with the echoing of djembe drums-
conga drums accenting the rhythm.
This is the voice of Africa, each drum singing to another
exchanging happiness, sadness, marital rites,
a doctor healing the sick.

Accompanying these drums are soothing sounds
in the night, even I understand there is peace
in Africa, as I realize nature has accepted me.

Lisa O’Hara 8-27, 2004

Topic #1: Who is the person who reminds you most of your family but is not related to you?


Well, “Who reminds me of my family, but is not related to me” immediately brought to mind one man who, although was in a sitcom, brought to families throughout the 1970’s the realism that prejudice, beit racial, theological, governmental, and male domination over females, was much alive in mainstream households throughout our country.  Although this show theoretically was “laughable,” it’s message filtered into households throughout our nation with high reviews and was kept on the network, to my chagrin. 

If you were in your young teens when this program aired, you would be a babyboomer, as am I.  I have to wonder if the program was designed to exploit the “working man’s philosophy” he thought our country was founded, or was the “blue collar” working man’s perception actually being exploited, giving the public a view into the typified middle class with its cruel and judgmental view of a county our forefathers with great wisdom fought to instead unite.

This man, Archie Bunker of “All In The Family,” was indeed a mirrored image of my father.  I can remember feeling a deep uneasiness within, as he bantered, as did my father, about how the “Jews” were behind our socioeconomic decline, so that the blue collar worker could not get ahead in this country; women were exposed to Edith, running around without a recognized thought in her head, according to Archie, and only occasionally was she allowed to be a full human being who had to stand up to Archie to declare her independence of thought, morals, declaration of womanhood as an equal…There were so many caveats to this program that endorsed the “iron fist” running a family, and I remember wondering if Archie was correct?  Was my father correct?  Was my mother really an unintelligible, rambling silhouette of a human being? 

Yes, much confusion regarding roles within the family puzzle was apparent to me.  As I married at age 19, still in college, I found a path that did not follow my father’s words, nor my mother’s part of this dysfunctional puzzle of perception of the world…..I grew into who I am now, having raised my children to embrace all cultures, be inquisitive and learn from others’ lives, travel and experience life and hold each day of life to the heart and hold others’ lives close to the heart as well, for we are all apart of each other and we need each other. 

Perhaps, this is the time in our world we need to not let “Archie Bunker” ressurect his philosophy, but develop a new philosophy which will endorse our dependence on each other.   

Recovery – A mere pointe in time!


Oh yes, another moment’s breath, held

A pause inviting a reflection of dreams awaiting reality……

Do not be afraid of standing silently, my universe urges me.

The answers I seek will become visible, as snow melts and a path unfolds.

I learn daily, do not be afraid of pauses in life

A necessity to gain one’s balance, as a dancer is, on pointe.


 Lisa O’Hara