Head Back Looking up Patches of blue Splashes of white Visible thru the Rectangular grid A work of art Ever-changing As the wind Rustles leaves In my periphery Then gently Cools my face Music flows From speakers Perfectly placed Behind my head I listen-looking Again, at the grid Then close my eyes A negative of the Image remains Imprinted on The insides of My eyelids Smiling, my foot Quietly taps along With the beat Chair rocks Back and forth Every muscle relaxes Underneath this Perfect frame I open my eyes Once again to The changing view
An absolute Necessity Without it My days Are done And yet Once you Came along I learned A new way Of holding it- Not the way Of childhood Mad jumping Up and down Cheeks puffed Face turning blue No-this holding Was different- Unable to sleep Tiptoeing into Your room Late at night Staring into The darkness Careful not To breathe Until I could see Your tiny chest Steadily rising Up and down Making sure You were Breathing
My kids are grown, but I remember those moments vividly. Sneaking into their rooms to make sure they were still breathing. And although those days are long gone, there are still times when I hold my breath for them. Times when things aren’t quite going their way. Times when their hearts hurt. Times when they have big decisions to make or finals to take. That is the beauty of parenting. I will always be their mom. Happy Mother’s Day!
Pink flowers Graced The bed Yesterday Fluttering In the breeze As if to say Isn’t it a lovely day? Rains came Winds grew Now pink petals Cover the ground I don’t think They are sad Just seeing The world From a new Perspective Knowing Their blooms will Remain in memories As they fade into dust
I wrote this poem at a recent writing circle with Ali Grimshaw. flashlightbatteries I continue to enjoy this process and the lovely people I’ve gotten to know. 💞
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. 🙂
Reverie
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
Reverie from Scenes from Childhood by SchumannKelley Morris, piano
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. 😉
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. ❤
