A constellation of water droplets
clings tightly to my window
Tiny spheres sparkling bright
as the brightest stars
shining in the darkest dark
So close, separated only
by a single pane of glass
not millions of light-years
My hands can touch neither
the droplets nor the stars-
Yet, each embraces me
Heart, mind, and soul-
Assuredly the most
endearing enfolding
Like the quiet twinkle
in your eyes, a welcome
endless embrace
Tag: hope
Stop Asking
A piece of the puzzle, yes,
But which one?
An edge, providing guidance
A corner with two straight sides
Or the one with so many
knobs and sockets
the fear of never being found
cannot be dismissed
But a puzzle with even
One missing piece remains
Incomplete
Undone
Leaving hands and eyes
frantically searching-
So, I guess
It really doesn’t matter
Edge, corner, or the knobs
and sockets that finally
complete the last
section of pale blue sky
Each one belongs-
So, why is it
I can’t seem to stop asking
Where do I fit?
I am enjoying my first experience at the Scissortail Creative Writing Festival in Ada, Oklahoma! And while listening to so many amazing writers may allow a bit of imposter syndrome to creep in, it is above all encouraging and inspiring.
Breathless
Stretched across the sky
A swimmer, graceful and strong
Head tilted to one side
One arm stretched out in front
The other by her side, mid stroke
Gliding across the blue
Legs stretched out behind
feet gently kicking-
Every muscle engaged
Strange, the thought of
swimming across the sky
instead of the ocean
Arms reaching for
a pink moon, instead
of the sandy shore
Images stretched across
a blue canvas-Breathless-
Clouds, swimmer, and observer
Healing Rays
My eyes are closed
The sun’s intense heat
warms my face
Its rays attempt
to pierce my eyelids
Sun spots gently float
across the black
in front of my eyes
I fight the urge to sneak a
peek at my surroundings
My body needs this time-
Time enough to lose
all sense of time
Focused only on keeping
my eyes closed
While sinking deeper into
this out of the blue, but
most welcomed, warmth
Simply Sunday
The wind’s sway
is strong today
Urging and drawing
This way and that
It is okay to hold on, Little Flower
But keep your eyes open
You never know what
new perspectives
The breeze might
have in store
Limited Power
There are moments,
A scream buried
deep inside begins
rising to the surface
Push it back down, steady-
Letting it out would
surely be unpleasant
Why is it there, anyway?
Big picture, I am ok
Still, frustrations pile
one on top of another
and another, attempting
a coup inside my brain
Truth is, their power is limited
One tangerine sky at the
end of a cool Spring day
and my heart instantly
returns to the helm
And that scream?
It dissipates in a single breath
In the Dirt
Days are long, but
Years are short.
Or so they say
That all elusive “they”
Who receives entirely
too much credit in our
passing days and years
I want to walk,
no, meander,
down a dirt path
Trees on both sides
Transformed into
a shady canopy
Listening to the breeze
Listening to the birds
Stopping only for a
Single ray of sunlight
Peeking through the leaves
To paint a picture
in the dirt just for me
No thought of days,
years, maps, or lists
Only the temporary
Becoming the eternal
I wrote this poem in a recent in-person poetry circle. Listening, reflecting, and writing with this group was a breath of fresh air. Highly recommend! 💛
Simply Sunday
Reaching For Me
I saw a hand
in the sky today
Powerful and strong
Open and inviting
Formed from clouds
while holding clouds
Its blue-gray edges
Lined in bright sunlight
I imagine sitting
safe in its palm
Reclining, at least
for a moment
No worries of
Hatred or war
Sickness or death-
Not ignoring
Only briefly resting
Cradled in the hand
I cannot fully understand
Believing it is there, reaching
Forgot to Remember
With pinpointed laser focus,
I move through a tunnel
of my own making
Eyes staring straight ahead
Everything in my periphery,
blurred
Just make it
to your destination
Tensions will ease
Where am I heading,
anyway? I forgot to remember.
The tunnel walls concealed
my dazed distraction, creating
a false sense of direction
toward a desired destination
Or whatever it is I’m seeking.
Peace? But peace is not a destination.
Peace shines through a single ray of sunlight
piercing the clouds to my right
Peace sings with the birds playing leapfrog
on the power lines to my left
Peace smiles as I exit the tunnel
Opening my eyes and my heart
to this great big beautiful world
Let Go of the Rope
I am standing in a field
holding tight to the
middle of a rope
A foolish attempt to
bring balance in an
unexpected tug-of-war
On my right, grief
grips the cord
with all its might
On my left, love
holds firm
Always fierce
Suddenly, I understand-
Neither one can let go
They are forever bound
Now I’m faced with a choice-
Allow the tug-of-war
to continue within me
or let go of the rope
Reach for images,
past and present,
patiently waiting in
the back of my mind
Watch, as grief and love
fall into each other,
simultaneously releasing
laughter and tears
I am lying in a field
having let go
of the rope-
Exhausted, grateful, content
