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
How eloquently and honestly shared, dear friend. “Now, today, I walk across liquid grass.” (i’m so happy we have rain finally).
“I should uncover my head, let the rain fall where it will”
“Not ready to be a cog in the busy wheel again.”
“From my head to my toes.”
I’ve been surrendering so much, Kelley, as my parents’ health declines and we are all helping take care…new stages of life. New seasons that you understand so much. The grief that falls like the rain, yet the hope you know is waiting–and the joy of the fresh rain on a scorched soul! Each season holds such juxtapositions. They go so fast too, don’t they, sweet friend?
I’ve been in the busyness–and also, the weakness and virus-like things that require me to go to infusion center. Although I’m not “here” often, I hold you in my heart and prayers. 💚🙏🏻🫶🏻 thank you for sharing your beautiful words and heart with us!
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Yes…way to fast. Love and hugs, sweet friend. ❤️
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