My Heart

My Heart by Tedi Tuttle Wixom 4/29/99, transcribed 2/28/12

My heart pumps gallons of blood

Throughout my entire body every day.

The blood is flowing, receiving oxygen.

It goes and flows on and on

Giving life, keeping me alive.

Have I ever said, “Thank you,”

To God for this miracle?

Today, I say, “Thank you

For all the intricate things

I don’t comprehend and yet,

I continue breathing

Without thinking about my breathing

In and out, in and out

With my heart pumping,

Whooshing the blood along,

     Along it’s way.”

Die TV Die!

Die TV Die! By Tedi Tuttle Wixom 5/4/99 transcribed 2/27/12

Obituaries are packed with friends

And neighbors lying dead of heart attacks.

Why? Why in America are we insistent

Upon rushing headlong into the jaws of death?

Why can’t we relax? Why can’t we rest?

We need more rest and more silent time.

We need a few friends who are humans

Not merely Mr. Computer, Mr. TV, and Mr. Internet.

We all have the same hours in a day.

Time is a precious commodity.

I need a prescription for ocean waves to soothe my soul,

More barefoot time in the sand,

And less news to cause information overload.

Perhaps, if I cut the cables, wires, and electricity,

I could regain my senses and sensibility.

Die TV die!

I need to feel fresh mown grass on bare feet, or

Sun streaming across my face as the sun disappears

On the Oquirrh Mountains as I gaze west, while

Tossing pebbles in the Great Salt Lake.