Lesson in the Sunrise
A dark cloud of apathy
Split the morning
Perfectly in half
Left to linger
The damage left behind
Will be impossible to mend-
Strange, love exists
On both sides
Of the darkness
I must believe it does-
Rays of hope
Able to burnish holes
Through the shadows
Of indifference
Affording hope even
In the murkiest of storms-
Light joining hands
Across the darkness
On a recent morning drive, I noticed an unusual sunrise. From my vantage point, a large dark cloud divided the sun’s fiery red glow in half. The clarity of the division was daunting. Yet despite the chasm, beauty existed in each half.
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Simply Sunday on Monday
Each Other’s Keeper
Sometimes heard
In a voice
Not thru words
But in subtle timbres
Tiny waves of uncertainty
Rustling their way out
From under the rubble of worries
Cautiously searching for
A listening ear
An open heart
Two reaching hands willing
To help carry the burden
Lessen the weight
If only for a moment
Will my ears hear the waves in your voice?
My heart see the need in your eyes?
My hands reach out and lift you?
My heart says you would do the same for me
Song for You Far Away, Your Song, Secret of Life
A few of my favorites. 🎶🎹❤️
Seasoning
A sweet aroma calls
But no one is allowed
In the kitchen
Until it’s time-
Mind focused
Hands steady
Intentionally reaching
For each ingredient
Knowing the use
Of certain seasonings
Expresses feelings
Difficult to put into words-
Dinner’s ready! Come fix your plate!
Tired, satisfied, he sits
Watching, listening
Waiting to see if the flavor
Conveys the richness
Of the love with which
The meal was prepared-
Ah! Sweet silence
Do you have someone in your life who loves to cook? Not just for the sake of cooking, but as a sign of love for those receiving. I’m beginning to understand, as a recipient, the meaning behind the words-Everyone out! 😉❤️
Sawdust
I see your light
Seems impossible
You are no longer here-
I cannot hear your voice
Or hold your hand
Hands rough from years
Of hard work-carpentry
I see your light
As surely as the
Smell of sawdust
From freshly cut wood
Carries me back to
My childhood and you
Just getting home from work
I see your light
In everything you built
A tiny birdhouse
Your grandson’s toybox
Our family home
Churches near and far
I see your light
Reflected in all those
You loved so dearly-
How I wish
I could see your face
How I miss my sweet Dad! There are tears some days. But there are precious memories everyday. ❤️
I wrote this poem in a recent poetry circle. Thankful for such a beautiful, safe space that allows me to be me.
Simply Sunday
Which Question
After my arrival
Before my passing
How many seeds will I sew?
Whether scattered haphazardly
In knee-jerk reactions
To daily irritations or
Carefully sewn in love
With the intent to encourage
Both have the power to grow-
Seeds of frustration
Burrow deep
Expanding the crevices
In despairing hearts
Seeds of kindness
Take hold
Increasing hope
For healing hearts-
Truthfully, the results
Are not mine to know
Only my intent realized
Right before or right after
The seeds leave my hands-
After my arrival
Before my passing
What type of seeds will I sew?
Necessary Companions
Though its comings and goings
Are fairly gradual
It sometimes seems
To disappear in a snap
Leaving us to wonder
How it gave in so quickly
To its counterpart-
Not sure they are friends
Light and dark
But their cooperation
Is necessary
For our survival
One allowing us to rest
And sleep, and dream
Freeing space
In our hearts and minds
To notice a beautiful
Brushstroke of the other
As it paints pink across
Smiling sunrise clouds
Simply Sunday
Rocks and Trees
A highway lined
With Aspen groves
Their golden leaves
Smiling golden smiles
Covering me with affection
A winding road lined
With massive boulders
In their current state
Of stacked strength
Covering me with shade-
Different, yet each
Conveys the feeling
Of being snuggly wrapped
In my favorite blanket-
Warmth and security
Sometimes come from
The most surprising places
Two Different Things
Facing my fears-
Does that mean the same
As overcoming them?
I don’t think so
It doesn’t feel that way
In the moment
Perhaps they’re two
Different things-
Understanding fear’s roots
Proves helpful
And yet, the feelings
Do not simply vanish
Anxious, irrational fears
Of once again being
Out of control
Suddenly flood
Every part of my body-
Time to stop
Take a breath
Sit down
Look directly ahead
Or, if necessary
Close my eyes
Allow tears to fall
And that is ok-
It is helpful to have
Someone next to me
Someone I trust
Who will say
You are safe
It’s ok to close your eyes
You can open your eyes now
And when I step out
Of my comfort zone
Even just a little says
I’m so proud of you!
Fade to Blur
A beautiful blue design
On a soft white backdrop
Graced the morning sky-
Like a cherished dish
Whose intricate pattern has
Grown dull over time
From years spent
Holding tasty treats
Before being gently washed
Then carefully put away-
Though the design has faded to blur
The memories held
Remain clear and strong-
It may seem impossible
After so much time has passed
But certain recollections
Plant themselves deeply-
Like visiting Grandma
For a cup of coffee and a piece
Of her chocolate cake
Baked with a secret ingredient
What was that secret ingredient?
Well, that’s my memory
Piano Girl 