Chances Are

You have heard
Thought not
Often enough

That what you
Do every day
Matters
Teaching little minds
Touching little hearts
Guiding little souls
Influencing the next
Generation for
The better-
But today
I want to say
It is you who matters
Your mind
Your heart
Your soul
Whether shouted
From the rooftops
Or whispered
On the breeze
My hope is that
On this day
This truth
Covers your
Every fear
Every hope
And renews
Your heart

Yesterday was my last day at school. My heart is overflowing. So many sweet notes and hugs. There remains much to reflect on after teaching these many years. Time…

I wrote this as a goodbye and an encouragement for my school friends and colleagues. Maybe someone else needs to hear the same message. ❤️

Simply Sunday

Happy New Year! I was so grateful for the opportunity to begin my day yesterday in a poetry circle. Thank you, Ali. ❤️https://flashlightbatteries.blog/

Time for listening, writing, and reflecting. Time to look back before looking ahead.

Always Room

Is there always room to grow?
It is easy to remain
Stationary
Standing firm on
This one thought
I am right where I’m supposed to be
Even if one leg
Feels wobbly
And my tears
Are enough to
Fill buckets-
But tears can
Clear a path
And dumping over
Those buckets
Washes away fears
Leaving my feet
Free to move
Toward something
New and different
Yet, also familiar
There is always room to grow

Open the Door

The view outside
My window
Can be deceiving
Glass is clear
Giving a false
Impression of
Connectedness-
Yes, I can see
The sun shining
Its brightest yellow
The sky painted
A perfect baby blue-
Yes, I can see
But I cannot feel
The barbs dodged
By neighbors
As they walk
Across their yards
Or the biting wind
Reminding them
Of unknown loss-
Perhaps I should
Open the door
Look through my own eyes
Stop simply taking in the view
Place me in the picture
Changing the scenery
While being changed

Simply Sunday

Yet to Know

For all the hurrying
To complete
The next task
Reach the next
Milestone
I am finding peace
In the unfinished
Relief in knowing
There is more
To become
Simple changes
In the day to day
Or transformation
Across the years
A me anyone has yet to know…
Hopefully, one who is
A bit wiser, one
Who remembers
To slow down
So as not to miss
Even the singular
Steps of growth
Requiring
The most faith
Revealing
The simplest joys

Student Teacher

Tiny hands
Gently curled
On piano keys
Were my hands ever that small?
Sitting tall
At the piano
Feet dangling
Was that ever my experience?
Sweetest voice
Singing along
With each new note
Wonder if I ever did that?
Biggest smile
An excitement
Almost tangible
Now that I remember
Thank you, little one
For filling in those
Missing memories
From my first piano lesson

Circle Poems

Not So Obvious

Where am I?
Sitting here
With my feet
Firmly planted
On the floor
Well, that is
The obvious answer
But what about
Those answers
That won’t come
So easily
Answers that lead
Down a path
Holding only
More questions-
How is it a single detour
On today’s path
Can feel like a failure
Sucking the air from
All the colorful balloons
Filled throughout the day
Rising to the top
Leaving behind
Contented smiles-
If only I could
Erase the sound
Of the needle
Popping the one balloon
Not released with joy-
Maybe tomorrow…

Confident Cloud

This morning
I noticed sunlight
Finding its way
Thru layers
Of clouds-
Some clouds
Seemed to bask
In the light
Almost disappearing
While others remained
Dark and gloomy
Allowing only
A few rays
To lightly lay
Across their gray-
Oh, to be the cloud
Completely open
To the sun’s warmth
Boring a hole
Right thru its center
Confident it is now
Ready to face
Whatever storm
May lie ahead

I continue to be encouraged by and grateful for the writing circle. ❤️ If you are interested, check out https://flashlightbatteries.blog/

Writing Circles

Sharing two poems today that I wrote in a recent poetry circle with Ali Grimshaw. If this is something you’ve considered participating in, check out her website. I continue to be amazed at the process and thankful for the connections. ❤️ https://flashlightbatteries.blog/

Hold the Door!

The same door
Same hallway
Same faces, mostly
Day in, day out
Oh, it’s a fine door
Bright hallway
Smiling faces, mostly
What would happen if I changed my entrance?
No, not a different door
Just held this door
For someone else
Walked that hallway
With intention
Bravely met all
Those faces
Not just with a smile
But with me
Whatever me happens
To show up that day-
Honest, unafraid
My heart open
Ready to receive
Ready to be received

Circles of Change

Thought I was walking
Down a new path
Confident change
Was preparing
To peak out from
Around the corner
At any minute
Any corner…
Any day now…
But it remained
Hidden-not ready
To show its face
Maybe I had been
Walking around
In a circle
Seems I am back
Where I started
Or perhaps
That magnetic
Starting line
Loosened its grip
Just a bit
Before gently
Pulling me back
Tugging at my heart
Allowing time to grasp
A new perspective-
After all, life’s
Biggest changes
Are often felt, not seen

Self-Check Lane

Decided to give http://lindaghill.com/ weekly SoCS writing prompt a go! This week’s prompt was bagged. Fun!

He bagged groceries most of his life. Found satisfaction in the routine.

It was like a new puzzle with each order. Everything had its place. Heavy cans were double bagged. Bread and eggs are always on top.

The smiles were nice, too. Most people seemed to appreciate the care taken with their chosen items. After all, these were the things intended to provide sustenance, and energy needed to fulfill their specific jobs.

Yes, their jobs may have been seen as more important than bagging groceries. That didn’t matter, not to him. He took pride in those bagged groceries.

Only one thing made him sad. That was the day the owner installed their first self-check lane…

Pulling Weeds

Some are deceiving
Masquerading
As another one
Of the flowers
Hiding their roots
Amongst the foliage
Of otherwise
Healthy plants
And once unable
To contain
Their original intent
Begin showing
Tiny glimpses
Of green
Peeking through
In an attempt
To steal sunlight
From the buds
Preparing to open
Tricky they are
These weeds
Precision is required
To squash any
Irreparable damage
They might cause
It’s hard work
Pulling them out
By their roots
But only after
The labor is done
Will the heart
Be able to heal
And love bloom

Any guesses as to what I did this morning? I have no green thumb, but I enjoy the flowers in our front flowerbed. So, this morning I decided to pull weeds and do some trimming. Whew! What a job!

It seemed like each time I pulled weeds from an area, more would appear. And certain ones, well, their roots were strong. I’m not sure I got them all. Truthfully, I know I didn’t. But it did make me think about my heart.

It is easy to allow weeds to get in, tying me in knots. Wrapping around the good, trying to stifle it with confusion, anger, or impatience. A simple reminder to keep doing the hard work. And then stand back and enjoy the flowers. 🌸

Cushioned Steps

Each careful step
Across the floor
Cushioned by
Layers of history
What was once alive
Now protects as it
Deteriorates
Feeding the earth
Lying underneath
How many have
Come and gone
Taken these same steps
Across lines of
Time and space-
Did they notice
The Luna moth
Drying her wings
In frilly foliage
Of gentle ferns
Or the bright orange
Mushrooms
Peeking out from
Underneath
The fern leaves
Were their steps cushioned as well?
Steps that allowed
Time for pause
Time for soaking up
All the forest
Has to say
About the past
The present
And the future

Quick to Dismiss

You and I have
A difference
Of opinion
As far as
Differences
Of opinion go
Since an opinion
Is quite often
Not completely
Based on facts
Perhaps we could
Put this one aside
Yes, it seems
Important now
Emotions heightened
With every discussion
But is it worth dismissing each other?
Flesh and blood
Heart and soul
Isn’t it worth attempting a connection?
If our hands could
Briefly touch
Surely our hearts
Would follow

President Biden spoke last evening concerning the epidemic of gun violence in our country. His words expressed sadness, compassion, and anger. His call to action was passionate as well as logical.

So many lives were lost. Families destroyed. Are we so stuck and stubborn in our thoughts and opinions? Is there no room left for compromise? I refuse to believe that is true.