Clouds could not contain
its brightness-squinting
I looked only long enough
to snap two photographs
Side by side, the difference
was slow to appear, slight
adjustment of time, seconds,
but a revelation for eternity
Closer to the light than
I could ever hope to be
flying across the sky
wings spread wide and free
Light held in clouds
yet, bright enough
to carry him forward
into the hope of his future
Logic would say today is gray
Tell me to move on
I take a second look, then a third
Subtle color variations appear
Lines of demarcation between
Heaven and Earth seem to ripple
within the rhythm of the wind
I keep looking until a tiny
semblance of light appears
from behind wispy layers
It doesn’t last long
Only a few seconds and a smile
Darkness covers the faded colors
Now, the sky is gray
Rain begins to fall
I smile again, grateful for those
subtle variations gracing
the morning sky-Preparing me
for the slow unfolding of today
Last week, I took a walk.
Everyone around me
was running.
In this instance, the results
would be the same.
I suppose that’s what
happens when you get
caught, unprepared,
in a rainstorm.
The thing is, I knew
the rain was approaching.
I knew there was no umbrella
hiding in my backseat.
And still, I chose to
ignore the warning.
Not always a wise choice,
but this time it was warranted.
Last week, I took a walk.
Drenched from head
to toe, I laughed.
My soul felt lighter.
Then the rain stopped.
Rushing out the door,
I noticed my sweet, silly cat
stretched out like a pile of
pulled-apart cotton balls.
Driving to work,
I saw a once fluffy cloud
rolled out across the blue sky.
Reminded me of my cat.
Perhaps I need to unroll, stretch.
Not just my body, but also
my head and my heart.
Remaining too long
curled in a fetal position,
Though somewhat comforting,
is counterproductive.
Touch my toes.
Reach my hands skyward.
Lie flat on my back, eyes closed.
Smile or cry, whichever is needed.
Smile and cry at the same time.
That’s my favorite.
Ask for forgiveness.
Say I’m sorry.
Say I love you.
Slow down and stretch.
Not a cloud in the sky.
Yet, a heavy haze
held the morning.
Unhelpful. Especially when
my brain also feels foggy.
If only I were still sleeping.
However, sleep is not
a likely solution.
There is rarely a
single solution anyway.
Some days are just like this.
My heart is grateful for
family and friends.
My head is unsure how
to process the melancholy.
Seems counterintuitive
to wish for a cloud.
But if a fluffy cloud means
A lifted haze
A bluer sky
A spark of imagination
Then I will keep searching.
Looking out every time
I pass a window.
I have never seen
a blue so pale, barely blue.
Blurring the lines
between sky and cloud.
Still blue, only subdued.
The mood emanating from
those muted hues
is quite opposite from
this morning’s bird songs.
Playful conversations
I could only observe,
no matter how closely
I listened. Smile-inducing,
even without understanding.
Perhaps there’s a lesson
in the comparison.
Pale blue-an accurate description
of my current mood.
Playful conversations-an indication
of future possibilities.
An intriguing coexistence.
Yes, I am aware.
Some details are missing.
Try to see the bigger picture.
That sounds logical, at first.
As if acceptance makes it easier
to continue down my path.
But then I notice the
smallest of wonders.
From the edges of a nest,
straw is poking out where two wooden
beams are nailed together.
A mother bird is sitting quietly on her eggs.
Seeing the big picture is impossible
without consistently returning
to the small moments.
The fuzzy head of a nestling
is barely seen from the ground.
The nest is crowded with fledglings
almost ready to fly.
Each tiny step in nature, somehow,
a reflection of my life.
I don’t want to miss even the tiniest feather.
The sound of water
rushing over rocks-
A demonstration of power.
An offering of peace.
Where does one end?
Where does the other begin?
What is the source?
Is it the water? The wind?
What about the rocks?
Unmoving, they tolerate
the rushing water.
Over time, the water smoothes
their rough edges.
And the wind? It freely carries
their story of transformation.
Listen. Can you hear their song?
A message of determination, finding
Peace in the middle of chaos.
Can you hear your story in theirs?
Riverfront Park-Spokane, Washington 💙
It wasn’t supposed to rain.
But when I stepped outside,
raindrops landed on my head,
my face and my arms.
They dried almost as quickly as they fell.
Strange, no gray clouds in sight.
Looking straight ahead, while
turning a 360-degree radius,
there was a mix of
bright blue,
fluffy white,
and daylight.
Where was the gray?
Directly overhead.
I suddenly felt like a cartoon character.
You know the one.
Aimlessly lumbering across a happy scene,
accompanied by a single rain cloud.
It’s curious, today is clear and sunny.
And I miss the raindrops.
Constantly interrupted sleep,
a cycle of words and phrases
repeating and evolving
between quiet moments.
When morning came,
the words were gone.
As if they’d never crossed my mind.
Just as I’d put aside
any attempt at recovery,
a beautiful blank slate appeared.
Its location? A pleasant surprise.
A page of blue surrounded
by white clouds and sunshine
I think my day just wrote itself.
Piano Girl 