Ideas scattered No inspiration Whether to seek Or to settle Accepting The need to let My mind rest Not sure I know how… Pick up the pen Perhaps Motor Movement Will trigger Creativity Perhaps not- Either way Watching Words appear Somehow Slows Racing heart Cools Heated face Relaxes Frantic brain- Powerful process Placing thoughts On a page
Summer break is coming to an end. I am preparing for school to start. We continue to deal with living in a pandemic. Not surprisingly, my thoughts are scattered. And that is ok. There is strength in honesty. ❤️
Overcast sky On this day of rest Not dull Not dreary Sunshine Is present Hiding Behind clouds Bright patches Lighting our paths Shady spots Providing reprieve Overcast sky On this day of rest Needed Welcomed
When the pink letters came in the mail last week, I thought this can’t be right. There is no way it is already time for my mammogram. It was only in March that I had surgery. An incisional biopsy. And before that, an MRI, ultrasounds, more mammograms, etc.
But here was my pink letter, sent twice. So, I called to schedule. And today was the day.
Even though my previous test results were all benign, I found myself feeling panicky this morning. The thought of a mammogram, especially after surgery, made me cringe. But I got up, got dressed, and headed that way.
Well, I stopped at Starbucks first for a London Fog latte. Surely that would help.
Checked in, got my little bracelet, and was called back in a few minutes. Undress from the waist up, put on your cape, opens in the front. Always the same. I chuckled when I saw the flowery material. After putting it on, I proceeded to take a selfie. For some unknown reason, I felt the need to document.
Wouldn’t you love to be this fashion forward? 😉
Still feeling a little anxious, I took a deep breath and tried to relax. And then, at the perfect moment, my mom sent a text. Praying for you. Love and hugs. Of course, I responded by sending her my selfie.
The technician was friendly. She asked me my birthdate, routine. After a few seconds of thinking, She laughed and said, I am 25 days older than you. We laughed that I was making her do the math. She quickly put me at ease.
Was it still uncomfortable? Yes. But was it necessary? Also, yes.
Early detection is crucial. And the only way for that to happen is consistent screening. Don’t wait! Besides, you might just get to wear a lovely flowery cape. 🌸💗
I spied Two eyes In the sky Today Against a Backdrop Fluffy white Strikingly Tinted Bluish gray Two eyes Looking My way Feeling Inquisitive I returned Their look Wondering What they Might say A smile A sparkle Followed By a wink Before they Looked away
Sweltering heat Suffocated The entire Afternoon One step Outside And I was Immobile In the still Stifling air Surely, I Would not Wish away A summer day- Quite The change From early This morning When, after One look At the calendar I realized Summer was Slipping away And began Wishing It would last Just A little Longer- Now I wonder How many days Will pass before A cool breeze Blows the wisps Of loose hair In my messy Ponytail
Round and sweet Neatly framed With cropped Gray hair As I passed by The corner Breakfast table Where she sat With her son Or grandson Our eyes met She returned My smile
Frail and quiet Head tufted With remnants Of white hair As I passed by The corner Where he sat In a cardboard box Turned bed Surrounded by Carefully placed Blankets and pillows Our eyes did not meet
What is your favorite color? Perhaps the most asked question of childhood.
You meet a new friend on the playground. What is your favorite color? Drawing a picture in art. What is your favorite color?
My answer is blue. I’m not sure it has always been blue. It seems I remember short periods of loving pink and purple. But now, it is blue.
A beautiful blue sky. My dad’s blue eyes. Waters flowing through lakes, rivers, streams. And of course, the ocean.
The varieties in shades of blue amaze me. I was reminded why on a recent drive down the Pacific Coast Highway.
Looking out over ocean views, I could see the color-changing lines in the water. A perfect separation, as if someone had painted one section then the next. And those blues continued as far as the eye could see, until finally meeting the blues of the sky.
Gentle ferns Brightest green Soft clover Delicate White lines A perfect carpet For majestic Residents Red trunks Growing Standing For hundreds Of years Though roots Are shallow Strength comes When each Intertwines With the next Building A foundation Stretching From carpeted floor Rising Thru drifting fog Reaching Toward the sun- Enter quietly
Imagining Rolling hills Once covered In grass and dirt Graced With trees And fields As far as One could see Now paved Rolling hills City streets Perfectly lined With building After building Architectures New and old Juxtaposed To create An endless Visual puzzle Architectures As varied As the languages I hear while Waiting in a line For breakfast City of diversity In every sense I’m captivated And caught Between Wonder And Grief Marveling at All that surrounds While walking Down sidewalks So many call home
Piano Girl 