Lying on my back
In the driveway
At midnight-the stars
Were too many to count
Nothing to obscure
Their brightness
Sitting cross-legged
In the bed of a truck
Mountains rising above
Even more stars in the sky-
How could that be
With less sky to see?
Sitting quietly
In my backyard
Relaxing by the fire
Only a few of
The brightest stars
Remain visible
I know the others
Are still present
But their light
Has been dimmed
By the light of men
Even though it pales in comparison
I was a little grumpy when I got home yesterday. The reasons don’t matter. But any little thing seemed to grate on my nerves. As my frustration rose, I suddenly had a thought. Why don’t you go to the other room and play your piano?
I don’t know why this solution doesn’t appear faster in my brain.
Sitting down at the piano, I opened one of my favorites, Schumann’s Scenes from Childhood, a beautiful set of short pieces. The first few I played didn’t fit my mood. Then I landed on Reverie. Just what I needed.
After playing it several times, I became curious about the original German title-Träumerei. Reverie is the translation in my edition, and I wanted to make sure my ideas matched the original intent. One definition said, “pleasant reveries, daydreams.”
I got lost in my thoughts, listened to myself play, then wrote this poem. I felt much better. 🙂
Staring out
The window
Dreaming of
Sunny days
Even though
Today is gray
Running free
Through a
Golden field
Of sunflowers
Rolling
Without
Reserve
Down a
Grassy hill
Walking
Innocently
Hand in hand
Along a dirt road
Daydreaming-
Time well spent
Lost in thoughts
Energy renewed
Before heading
Back to the now
Drip-drops
Outside
My window
Faint
Steady
Green tree
Divided
By lines
A puzzle
Not wholly
Visible
Yet, complete-
Gray sky
Broken into
Rectangular
Sections
Interesting
But not enough
To lift the
Gray mood-
Happiness
Found in
Pink flowers
Watered by
The rhythm
Of the rain
Peaking
Between
The slats
A beautiful thing about Spring-even on the rainy days, colors are blooming outside. We simply have to look out the window. 🌸🌺
Children are the keepers of dreams
Their imaginations
Opened wide
With hope for
A bright tomorrow
Children are the keepers of dreams
Their imaginations
Dashed, stunted
If not acknowledged
If not encouraged
Children are the keepers of dreams
If only we would listen
And remember what it’s like
To fly to the moon
While swinging on a swing
I was excited to share this poem with my colleagues. My hope was to give encouragement for this final push of the school year. It was a reminder for me to take a step back and focus on my students. Make sure these last weeks of school are fun and memorable…even though we are all a bit tired.
The day I shared the poem ended up being the most difficult. It started out great and quickly descended into hot mess status. Me, the kids, my hair…the air was heavy and thick with hot-mess humidity.
And still, the words I had written the night before remained true. Children are the keepers of dreams. I was reminded as a fourth-grade girl brought me her poems to read for the second day in a row! And again, when a sweet first-grader told me she really liked my hair. (It was possibly my worst bad hair day ever.)
Maybe I need to get outside this weekend. Breathe in the fresh air. Go to the park and swing on the swings. And remember, it is my job to be an encourager of those precious imaginations., even on hot-mess days. 😉
It fell so hard
From the sky
I thought surely
It couldn’t be rain
Not frightening
Yet, deafening
No pauses
No discernable rhythm
A wall of sound
Capable of washing
Away more than
The dirt of the day
Fears and worries
Sadness, regrets
Were no match
For its cleansing
Washed away
Along with the
Remaining debris
Of a difficult season
A damp sidewalk
And peaceful silence
The only remains
Of the downpour
Today I am where
I have not been
In quite a
Long, long time
Sitting here
Talking with you-
Nervousness fades as
Repeated questions
Are patiently met with
Repeated answers
Happiness grows
With each smile
With each laugh
Making new memories
For future questions
For future answers
Worth repeating-
Ready to go home now
I will miss you tomorrow-
I will miss you, too
We had a fun visit with our friend, Marie, this past weekend. She was nervous at first but settled in quickly. Pizza, movies, shopping-some things never change.
However, there were some noticeable changes. Most importantly, happiness and security thanks to love and consistency from her foster family.
Though she was ready to go home Sunday, she told me several times-I will miss you tomorrow. ❤
Beautiful Spring day in Oklahoma.
Trees wave in the breeze
Delicate flowers hold fast
Breeze pauses to gaze
I saw a tornado
Approaching
Wall of clouds
In the distance
A dreaded
Lowering
The sky
Grew dark
Ominous
Wind began
To howl
And moan
I was afraid-
You wrapped
Me in your arms
As we crouched
On the floor
In darkness
Waiting for
The storm to pass
And the light to return
The truth is, you
Have saved me
From many storms
Even the ones
In my dreams
Springtime in Oklahoma means tornadoes. I’ve heard news stories this week concerning warning sirens and shelters. We’ve had a couple of stormy nights. I suppose it’s no surprise I dreamed about a tornado last night.
I told our daughter, Rachel, about my dream. She laughed and said something about Dad saving me from lots of “tornadoes” over the years. We had a good laugh while also acknowledging a comforting truth. ❤
Room is quiet
Only a steady
Sound of air
Flowing from
A plastic tube
Occasional
Snore from Dad
Glass doors
Provide a window
To the hallway
Doctors walking past
Carts rolling by
With food, linens,
Cleaning supplies-
Right outside sits
The faithful one
Never far away
Caring for others
Keeping track of
Vital signs
Medication
Answering questions
Calming fears-
I know it is
A team effort
But I believe
Nurses hold the key
I wrote this poem while sitting with my Dad in ICU after his open-heart surgery. I was amazed by and thankful for the care he received, especially his nurses. ❤
I can never unsee
The look
In your eyes
Or the bruises
On your legs
I can never unhear
Your response
When I asked,
What happened?
Little hand in a fist
Tearful words…
Me mommy
How was that possible?
I did not understand
But never doubted
Your brave declaration
Forever seared
In my memory
Words to be
Recalled years later
During the trial
I will never forget
But knowing you
Are happy now
Seeing you smiling
Your bright smile
Helps bad memories
Begin to fade
I hope they are
Fading for you
I have not written about our friend, Marie, in a long time. Face to Face with Child Abuse: Personal Reflections of a Teacher But she is coming to visit this weekend! I am both nervous and excited. Recent pictures show how much she has grown and changed. And her smile-bigger than ever! Hoping to add to her list of happy memories. ❤
Piano Girl 