Some days were made
for cloud watching
Days when light and
shadow compete at
such an intense level
They almost
overwhelm
the imagination
Those days when the world is moving so fast
And it feels impossible
to slow
down
and
breathe
Look up! Make it a day
for cloud watching
And if the clouds are few,
close your eyes and dream
Baby clouds fade into
the dark midday sky
Ruminating on
the abandoned
wasteland below
I wonder if the clouds
noticed children
playing in the ruins?
I wonder if the world noticed?
Echoes of war mute
all signs of life. Only
children make an attempt
What if the world
saw them in the heart
of the destruction?
Would reactions be
powerful enough to
soften hardened souls
To finally protect the
innocent long enough
to clear away the rubble
We all know the answer
As do the clouds
We have seen the children
No longer playing
No longer living
And the rubble remains
Simply Sunday is back! I participated in an author event yesterday, and several friends stopped by. 🩷
It has the power
to convey a lifetime
Transcending years past
Instant recall
of sweet memories
as well as difficult days
Its beauty lives in the eyes
The way they twinkle,
glimmer with tears
A message
Clearly conveyed
I see you, I remember
And sometimes,
that sweet smile
acts as a magnet
Connecting past with
present, offering
hope for the future
Baby clouds dot
the afternoon sky
Reminding me of a
playground full of children
I wonder if the clouds noticed
The parade of geese this morning?
Adults noticed-
I’m certain of that!
Cranky car horns honked,
unintentionally joining
The naturally humorous
noise of such a procession
What if children witnessed the parade?
Would their laughter influence
Reactions powerful enough
to transform the noises of
impatience, anger, and greed
Enticing wearied souls
back to the carefree
wonder of childhood
At least long enough to enjoy
a morning parade of geese
I closely observed them
Groups of two, three, four,
and so on, in a variety of
interesting shapes and sizes
Like families…
Some groups were secluded,
while others gathered close
I smiled, as they seemed
to act out stories
encouraging imagination
And play in childhood
games of hide-and-seek,
chase, and charades
Individuals also
stood on the outskirts,
no apparent family
Once noticed and invited,
They happily joined
the ongoing festivities
They are all part of the same sky
Suddenly, the groups
converged, and a
storm began to brew
Disagreements tossed
like lightning bolts
Grumblings rolled
into thunder claps
Until the rain began to fall-
Cleansing rain, like tears
quietly saying, I’m sorry
Repairing and renewing,
returning to their unique front
with restored compassion
Like the peace following a
thunderstorm, may we allow
our tears to cleanse our hearts
Happy 250th birthday, America! May we return to the strength found in compassion. ❤️🤍💙🕊️
Sweet baby girl
Little sister
Already loved
Your big sister
is so excited
to meet you
“Around Christmas time, when it might snow!”
Somehow, I think
she knew about you
before anyone else
Big sisters have
been known to
be a bit bossy
Yes, this is a personal admission
But I have a feeling
the two of you
will be best friends
And the rest of us
will continue to watch,
to learn, and to love
Where would I wish to go?
And who might do the carrying?
If carried by a cloud,
wherever the wind blew-
Watching shadows float
across the landscape below
Not simply reclining, but
looking through binoculars
Searching the trees, flowers,
and people below in hopes
of greater understanding
If carried by a horse-
Sitting tall, laughing
As my hair flows behind me
Holding tight to the reins
Exploring places only
The horse knows how to find
Admiring hidden
landscapes, amazed.
I’d have so much to learn.
As with any trip,
It would eventually
come to an end
And I would free
fall, confident
You’d catch me
and carry me home
I hope you’ll listen to my recent conversation with Emerge-Magazine editor, Aubrey Green. We talked about blogging, writing, poetry, and life! It was an honor and so much fun!
Will I ever recognize its approach?
The way it works itself into
a regular day, so slowly.
By the time it was revealed,
The day had almost disappeared.
But it was not wasted.
True, it held an uncertain sadness.
Until I realized I was missing you.
Of course, grief would visit
the day before Father’s Day.
But sweet memories also arrived.
And grief quietly took its seat.
Allowing its counterpart, always
nearby, to offer comfort, hope, and joy.
Happy Father’s Day, Dads! Your job is more important than you know. I hope you feel celebrated and loved today!
In the heat of the day
Willow weeps
for the Moon
She knows sunlight
is a necessity, but
often, on hot summer
days, reaches an impasse
To wait patiently
expending only
necessary energy
Or wilt with frustration,
dying in the heat
that accompanies the light
But Willow, she manages
Remembering her
sweet exhale will soon
accompany the rising Moon
Remembering its glow
is the perfect reflection
of the Sun’s radiant light
Prompt 7 The Poetry Marathon
Please use at least 5 of the following words in your poem:
Bat
Impasse *
Moon *
Curio
Dumpling
Willow *
Satchel
Sweet *
Exhale *
Chip
Piano Girl 