Do you ever feel Restless Lose track of time Or maybe your Car keys Focus blurry From Tired body Tired mind Too much time Thinking about Life’s worries… Place your hands Over your eyes As a shield But remember to Spread your fingers Wide enough for Tiny particles Of sun dust To filter thru The open spaces And carry hope Into your heart
This past weekend, a song I had not heard in a long time came to mind. One of those you are not alone kinds of songs. I don’t know about you, but I needed to hear these words, soak them in and then send them back out. Have a listen.
Months on the calendar Always the same Each day moving At the same speed No single one Able to outrun Another Logic says it’s so So why is it All of me From head To heart To toes Feels surprised When certain Times arrive? In the heat Of summer It seemed October Would never Show its face Yet here it is Teasing us With hints of Cool breezes And hopes for Beautiful colors I’m sure to be Just as surprised When it says goodbye
I am in the middle of a six-week physical therapy program for my back. It is both necessary and helpful. And it is also kicking my butt while reminding me of my age. My actual age, not the one I imagine.
You are as young as you feel. A common phrase. The truth is our bodies eventually wear out. We can eat right and exercise. Buy products advertising prolonged youth. All the while knowing it is impossible to reverse time.
Instead of fighting to stay young, I’d like to work at aging gracefully. But when my hip begins to cramp in the middle of leg lifts, two sets of fifteen-well, graceful is not the word I would choose.
Powering through those leg lifts did provide a feeling of accomplishment. Accomplished…maybe I need to combine goals. Strive to be gracefully accomplished. I think that sounds better. Even if it means continuing those leg lifts until the cramps in my hip are no more. 😉
Most teachers have moments of wondering-are they hearing anything I’m saying? Sometimes it is difficult to know. I want to believe our students remember more than we think they do. Especially the things that are most important.
My attitude has not been great this week. Several reasons that really don’t matter. But I could have easily been described as tired, grumpy, and irritable on several occasions. Today there were a couple of sparks that helped change all of that.
First, if you’ve never heard First or Second graders sing, it is precious. Their voices are pure and sweet. Today, they were learning about how music notes are placed on lines. And how they could learn to read those notes. Specifically, sol and mi.
Each song we learned was a different combination of those two tones. In one of the activities, I would sing a pattern, they would echo. The fun came when we sang along with an accompaniment.
They sounded so sweet! I was trying to express how happy it made me hearing them sing. One little First-grader raised their hand.
Mrs. Morris, are we filling your bucket?
I smiled. Yes! You are filling my bucket!
Our teacher says we filled hers, too.
I recorded their song and let them listen. There were giggles and smiles. Then I emailed the recording to their teacher. I also relayed their bucket comments so she would know they had been listening after all.
Your sweet smile Gives no hint Of the hurt In your heart They say children are resilient That may Be true But a heart Can only hold So much pain- When loss and Instability Frame each day The future Will not go Untouched- Not to say There is no hope Only that there are No easy answers Except for the ability To always return Your sweet smile
Each time I learn about another student facing traumatic circumstances, my heart grows heavy. Here they are, at school, trying to function. And quite often with a smile.
I am also reminded to stop and listen. Be patient and not too quick to judge behaviors. Seek out helpful information. Find ways to encourage.
Not that I am always successful. Honestly, my patience level today was low. But tomorrow is a new day. Another chance to observe, listen and love.
When my mind Grows frantic Unable to Separate One thought From another Enduring A constant Bombardment Of words Images Sounds An unexpected Gentle breeze Quiet song Safe hug Causes me To be still And pray Hem me in Simple words Bringing rest To the mind And soul The whole Of me held Together Bordered By a love Unmistakable And secure
“You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.”
Searching For a smile Through fog And darkness Although Not yet visible Trusting It is there Waiting for Just the right Moment To appear Glance to one side And then the other Still no smile Stepping out Of the car Deep sigh One more glance… There it is! A single strand Of pink light Between The bluish grays- I breathe deep Smile back
Stood outside In the rain Today Don’t do that Often enough Drops dampened My dress Frizzed My hair Cooled My skin The beginning Farewell Of Summer Blurring with The beginning Hello Of Fall Not that I would Recommend Standing In the rain Every day Only every Now and then To wash away What needs Washing away
Rain began to fall right as school ended today. This made for a damp dismissal. I had a few moments of irritation but then thought of this common phrase; a little rain never hurt anyone.
It certainly did not hurt me today. And it reminded me how quickly the seasons pass.
Sharing two poems I wrote in a recent poetry circle facilitated by Ali Grimshaw https://flashlightbatteries.blog/. I continued to be amazed at the beautiful connections made across many miles over computer screens. ❤️
At Seven
It is difficult To remember The me who Once was seven Do you find The same To be true? Oh, there are Glimpses Flashes of Childhood Aided by Photographs The reciting Of stories at Family gatherings I believe at seven Happy outweighed sad And freedom came When swinging To the sky Then bravely Jumping out It is difficult To remember The me who Once was seven But I am grateful For her spirit Continuing To reside in me Even when I’m afraid To jump out Of the swing
Tiny Boxes
Hours spent Together Make me want To remember Not just the present But every visit past- Each block of time Long or short Places another box Inside my heart Tiny boxes Full of surprises To open when Days are long Mind-wandering Tiny boxes Fighting battles Threatening To take away Focus, purpose, joy Tiny boxes Filled with Memories Of loving and Being loved
Unable to see it directly As I drive toward the east Only a quick glance In the rearview Assures its Appearance Eyes back on the road Lavenders And pinks Soon fill the sky In my periphery Both to the north And to the south Gradually blending With the darkening Indigo up ahead Although unable To see it directly For a few moments Sunset surrounds me Sharing its splendor Carrying me Into the night Leaving me ready For peaceful rest
Piano Girl 