I am in motion
but the day is
somehow still
Only rain for
my companion
Trees stand
motionless
as green leaves
drink in raindrops
So many days
passed without rain
Now, today, I walk
across liquid glass
I should uncover
my head, let the rain
fall where it will
but I don’t- well,
Only long enough
to unlock a door
and step inside
out of the stillness
Not ready to be a cog
in the busy wheel again
If only I’d lingered,
stood still, taken a
much-needed drink
And felt the approach
of this new season
precisely as the trees-
From my head to my toes
Simply Sunday
Limits
How do I know them
without testing
How do I test
without facing fears
Once set, how do I
accept and maintain
Or know when it’s time
to test them again
Questions resurfacing
during recent scenic,
but harrowing drives
Past experiences in cars
suddenly out of control
inducing present fears
My desire to stand under
the wisdom of giant trees
tugging at my soul
A fear my body remembers
fighting with an experience
my heart strongly desires
A work in progress
Accepting my limits
Not giving them control
Forever treasuring the
feeling of walking through
a grove of Giant Sequoias
Mariposa
You greet me with
the fresh scent of
pine bark and soil
Like the smell of air before rain
Your guardians stand
majestic and grand, some
over a thousand years
I am a guest in your home
Gray squirrels scurry
across fallen branches,
dark-eyed juncos sing
Sweet melodies reminding
me again my visitor status
This is not my home
A message reinforced
in my tired body with
each continuing step
How foolish to consider
only the humans who first
encountered your wonder
Now, I imagine a black bear
lumbering through your
gates, groggy from hibernation
A yellow warbler finding
rest in your treetops
following a long migration
A swallowtail sipping
sustenance in a meadow
of springtime flowers
Thank you seems insufficient
Today, it is all
my heart can manage
Mariposa Grove, Yosemite National Park
Traveling South
Stunning sunrise
on my right
Lingering Moon
on my left
A perfect spot for
contemplating
the coming day
The sunrise feels
grand, vibrant colors
impossible to ignore
Brilliant light rising,
reflecting, refracting,
lifting, and warming
But the Moon seems
so small.
It looks a bit lonely.
Until it dawns on me
The Moon is resting,
soaking in sunlight
to be reflected in
the coming darkness
And there’s a person,
waiting in the dark
who will witness
this same Moon
The brightest light in their sky
Still traveling South
Wondering
What I will reflect
in the coming day?
Community
We each hold space in this world. Each heart beats, longing to connect with another. We cannot look away from the marginalized and forgotten. They belong.
I’m proud to have this poem nominated by Emerge Magazine for Best of the Net. I hope you’ll take time to read it along with the others. ❤️
Falling
A fear of falling
Something I understand
and consider more often
the older I become
The same fear that
sneaks in as I push my
granddaughter on the swings
“Higher, Gigi, Higher!”
But falling is also
something to be
chased after
To experience
Falling in love
That one I understand
Fear may try to creep in
but it doesn’t win out
I wish I could think
of falling more in
terms of a waterfall
A sense of letting go
A freefall releasing
the weight of fear that
sometimes freezes,
only to thaw in an instant
Releasing my true self
as you watch, cheering
me on-reaching out
your hand when I do fall
Helping me back up or
lying down next to me
on the ground, until
I’m ready to try again
Simply Sunday
Purple Blanket
You stood in the
tall green grass
Its blades almost
above your head
I wasn’t sure if
I’d see you again
in light of current
proposals for change
Changes in the name
of progress, of course
Giving little consideration
to your fragile forest home
Your mom stands steady
near the tree line’s edge
Her gaze fixed on you as
your head tilts and ears perk
She is still and quiet
while you explore
Always curious about the
world outside of your own
And I watch, grateful to see
you, Doe and Fawn, securely
wrapped in the soft, pale
purple blanket of morning
Front of Mind
So many chapters
Various themes
woven throughout
Some short-lived, only
a chapter or two
Others ebb and flow
From forefront
to background
to memory
And then there are those…
Able to move from
back of mind to front
in an instant, saying
Hey! Remember me?
Themes that create
identity, meaning,
and connections
Today, I am the girl
sitting at the piano
I think I’ve been missing her
Simply Sunday
Butterfly
Some would say her
emergence mirrors
our beginnings
Damp wings gently
fluttering to dry
before taking flight
But I would argue her
flight more closely
mirrors our ending
For she has already
journeyed from leaf to
twig, across blades of grass
Over terrain, smooth and
rough, picking up bits
of life all along the way
Eventually wrapping
herself in so many layers
no room remains for living
Only room for reflection-
Like that required for
our final transformation
Leaving behind the shell
that faithfully held us
to the end of our journey
When our spirit, like the
newly flown butterfly,
experiences true freedom
Never Forget
A morning walk with
a friend as the kids
played nearby,
oblivious to the
world outside
Until we arrived home,
flicked on the T.V. and
watched as peace was
destroyed in an instant
Images of planes,
and buildings, and
smoke, and fire filled
our small living room
We watched
as the towers fell
unable to completely
comprehend the destruction
Hours later, kids in tow,
accompanied by friends,
I sat at a piano in a
nearby nursing home
Playing and singing hymns
through tears, in hopes
of calming fears-
The residents’ and my own
I will never forget
