One of Many

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A person can only fall
through so many cracks
And she has fallen through
many in her short life

Her sassy, sweet disposition
somehow remains
I’m not sure mine
would have survived

A history of being abused,
neglected, treated as less than
Years of reports leading nowhere
until circumstances could
no longer be avoided

Layers and layers of trauma
paired with intellectual disabilities

Finally, in a loving home with
People who are willing to love her
through the challenges

Always a battle for services-
physical and mental health,
unable to advocate for herself-
Reliance with no awareness

But that’s ok- she is who she is
A person- deserving
of love, respect, life
Her story is one of many

Do you know her?
Do you know him?
Will you keep your heart open
In case they pass your way?

One day, I hope to share more of her story. A frustrating phone call today brought a flood of emotions. She is okay. The system is not.

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl4 Comments
Thanks again to my friend, Paul Porter, for the amazing pic! https://www.facebook.com/paul.porter.3133719

Advice From a Common Box Turtle

Speed is not a reliable indicator
of a journey’s success
My wanderings take time
Or rather, allow time

Time to stop and
stretch my neck
Feel the sun on my face
Be still, and recharge

Rest my home, that
I may traverse this field
of green, at exactly
the speed required

To meet a new friend-
One who looks like me
Unique, colorful patterns
on their legs and shell

Or one quite different-
Tall and admiring, who
offers me sweet strawberries
As I continue on my journey

Reunion

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Their hair, now white
But their faces hold
familiarity, reassurance

Logic causes confusion
And my brain and heart
disagree over time’s passing

As they stand nearby
Smiling and talking
I feel a flicker of childhood

My reflection disagrees
But for a brief moment
I am once again carefree

What do they see when they look at me?

We listen more intently
Our hugs linger a bit longer
And I understand it took a village

Another goodbye followed by
A renewed sense of gratitude
for this familiar reassurance

Hushed

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The progression is slow
A snail trailing from one
side of the sidewalk
to the other

A caterpillar inching
from stem to leaf
Ready to face its
final transformation

A curious smile
growing with the
increasing warmth
of the sunshine

The whole sky
shining clear
and blue
and wide

The unease from
yesterday and the
day before and the
day before that…hushed

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl3 Comments

New and fresh
Young and bright
The greenness of Spring

Tried and true
Comfortable and faded
Her countenance in the mirror

Yet, with each new leaf
Each new flower petal
Youthfulness resurfaces

Along with it, a smile,
New and fresh, after all

Listening to Johnny Cash

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Layering itself within the everyday,
grief flows between memory and
emotion through eyes, ears, heart-
Leaving me with new reasons to miss you.

Johnny Cash spinning on your
granddaughter’s turntable.
We listened to Johnny Cash
on a long drive in my car.

Your grandson wearing
one of your straw hats.
I found a picture of you
wearing said hat, smiling.

My sweet granddaughter
and her blue sky eyes.
You would have been
so excited to meet her.

Your voice in my head, fading.
How’s my little girl?

Grief flows between memory and emotion through eyes, ears, heart-
Leaving me grateful, yet
wishing you were still here.

Mom and I had a recent conversation about how we sometimes struggle to talk about the ones we miss. I get it. There’s a fear of causing tears, sadness, and increasing grief. But I’m finding that talking about my dad, remembering good times, brings peace. Yes, it may also bring tears, but tears have the power to restore. ❤️

Shifting Senses

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When atmospheric conditions
make it nearly impossible
to discern who is moving
And who is standing still

An out-of-balance feeling
quickly comes and goes
Offering no answers to
the resulting questions

Am I moving forward?
Am I standing still?
What about you?
Where are we headed?

I can’t feel the Earth moving
Yet, it is in constant motion

The clouds are floating
Yet, when layered just right
in front of the sun
It is the sun I see shifting

Do the answers matter?
Or simply the sense of wonder
which precedes the questions

Simply Sunday

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Good Morning, Trees

A gentle breeze wakes
each tree, one at a time
They slowly stretch and sway

The mature ones, that is,
held steady by deep,
well-established roots

The younger ones, frenetic,
jump and wave like children,
excited to go outside and play

That was yesterday…

Today, all is quiet
Sleeping in after a
loud, stormy night?

Perhaps, like me, it takes
a bit longer for the warm
sunshine to reach their toes

Goals

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They offer the sweetest Good Morning.
A gentle wave, almost imperceptible
when the wind is calm.

I noticed them yesterday.
I noticed them today.
They will not be here forever.

Truth is, neither will I.
Truth is, neither will you.
So, how do our Good Mornings compare?

Some mornings, the words
croak through scratchy cords
as hands rub grit from sleepy eyes.

Even on those days,
I see you smiling over
your first cup of coffee.

And I smile back-
Maybe not quite as sweet
as the Pink Bubblegum Petunias.

Their name alone makes
competing a challenge-
Though it offers a worthy goal.

Sweet Good Mornings
Conceding the temporary
Leaning into the enduring

Happy Earth Day! 🌎🌸