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.
Tag: hope
Counterintuitive
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.
Simply Sunday
A Lesson in Comparison
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.
Feathers
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.
Powerful Peace
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 💙
Straight Ahead
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.
Simply Sunday
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.
Whispering Blue
A little patch of pale blue
Whispered my name
After the storm.
Rain had fallen
So hard, the sky was
No longer visible.
I could barely see
The road in front of me.
My shoulders tensed.
My chest tightened.
My heart grew heavy.
As the storm passed,
My body relaxed, tired.
But the heaviness
In my heart remained.
Even the little patch of blue
Couldn’t lighten the weight.
But that’s okay.
That wasn’t its purpose.
The little patch of blue
Whispered my name to
Shift my gaze and remind me-
Look for the good.
Trust that the storm will pass.
Simply Sunday
Light and Shadow
I sat with
The heaviness
All-day-long
My heart wrapped
In a blanket of grief
The day wrapped
In weeping clouds
A peak of the sun
Broke my stillness
Only a glance
Out the window
Surely, I should not soak it in
How could I?
Amid so much suffering
That sweet sunshine
Not to be ignored
Determined to draw me out
Shone a little brighter
Bravely displaying
Light and shadow
Simultaneously
I couldn’t help
Whispering
Thank you
Even as my heart
Continued to cry
Today, I am sharing a poem from my recent collection, When the Glass Breaks. Once again, the day, the world, feels anything but simple. And I know there are no simple answers. But I am reminded of the following quote.
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” Martin Luther King, Jr.
Fear and Hope
The Unknown
Thought of with excitement,
or overwhelming fear.
For me, the fear part usually
rises in the middle of the night.
Like waking up from a dream
with a sudden Gasp!
Except, this kind of fear is not a dream.
Dream or no dream, I have
no control over the outcome.
And worrying about all that remains unseen,
does nothing to enhance my state of being.
Not to say it is easy to push the fear away, but I keep trying…
Breathe.
Look out the window.
Find that glimmer of hope
calling to your soul, ready and waiting
to swallow up your fears.
Her Song
I know her song,
though it changes often.
Depends on the day’s path.
Does she choose her own?
I wonder.
When traveling through
A grove of Aspens,
her melody is gentle and sweet.
Each glistening leaf
adds a note of color.
When coursing over rough rocks
on the shoreline, her melody
grows stronger, driving forward
with each pulse of the current.
Both melodies, both paths,
inspire awe and wonder.
Listen. What is she singing for you today?
Poems from the poetry circle. ❤️
Piano Girl 