The reasons are many,
both logical and emotional.
Reasons we hesitate to speak
the names of those we miss.
Concern about how
Others may respond, or
how we ourselves may react.
Yes, emotions can be unpredictable,
But it is imperative to remember.
It reminds us of the immense
capacity of our hearts
to hold love along with grief.
So, go ahead, speak their
names. Let the sound of
Memories wash over you.
Wishing you joy and peace on this Christmas Day and for the days to come. ❤️🕊️❤️
The last of the Fall leaves
let go, falling to the ground
Bare branches stretch,
reaching toward the Sun
Wonders hidden in the
heart of the tree, protected
from the elements at
their most vulnerable,
now sit in plain sight
A carefully woven nest that
once held delicate eggs,
patient parents and fragile
chicks-now, its walls hold
only the echoes of life
The cracking of shells
by tiny beaks, little chirps
sweetly announcing
We have arrived!
Sleeping, eating, growing, learning to fly
Whether the leaves,
The mama bird, or
each of us-Letting go is difficult
But, oh, what wonders
wait to be revealed
May my hands always
stretch toward the Light
as my heart remains open
to that which needs protecting-
Even when only for a season
Happy Christmas Eve! ❤️💚
Always a welcome guest
Your brightness,
not to be ignored
As you gently alight
on the fence
I catch my breath
You seem to smile as
Snowflakes land on
your scarlet feathers-
A perfect contrast
Perhaps that is why
You so often shake
me out of my grief
Taken back by your beauty,
I sweetly reminisce
And for just a moment,
See the faces of those I miss
Suddenly, it was dark
Only moments before, I
watched the sky transform
from grayish-blue
to pinkish-orange
But now, from this vantage,
The sky is pitch-black
Strange, how artificial light,
created to erase darkness, actually
blocks billions of brilliant lights
Lights that serve as a guide
through the darkness
Could it be that progress
keeps us from the wonder
of lying on our backs,
the hardness of the ground
underneath us, unnoticed
Watching the bright lights
from dying bits of rock fly
across the night sky
The snowy owl sleeps
through the day,
resting her wings,
her body, her eyes
She waits until darkness
falls to take flight
What path will she take this night?
The familiar line following trees
along the river and up
into the mountains?
She knows it well
But something stirs her, gently
ruffles her feathers-Calling
her out of the familiar
and into the Valley
Not a sad place, but
a place to grow –
until once again, the sun
rises and she sleeps
Perched atop golden,
fluffy cattails, confidently
exclaiming, Here I am!
Crimson red wings,
glowing in contrast to
his black-as-night body.
There is no mistaking him,
and I think he knows it.
His ability to remain
perfectly balanced on
such a fragile stage.
His “I did it my way”
anthem soaring across
the field, remarkable!
I’m not sure whether
to bow, smile, or perhaps
simply call Bravo! Encore!
If I were to write a thankful list,
It would be a list of names.
Names of those who,
through the years,
planted seeds in my heart.
My only fear is forgetting.
Though forgetting your name
would certainly not negate
any seed you planted. You are
so much more than a name.
You are shared smiles and tears.
Strong hands, reaching, so arms
can fiercely wrap around hurts
in a comforting embrace.
You are kind words,
encouraging high-fives,
and celebrating victories.
You are faces, memories
of hope, present on
the darkest of days.
You are one soul seeing
the beauty and purpose in another.
And I am thankful to have
sometimes been that other.
I am thankful for all the yous
written on the list carried in my heart.
Days when the sun and clouds
clasp hands in such a way
It is nearly impossible to
distinguish billows from blues
Sunlight, bright and warm,
shines on, around, and
through layers of clouds,
stirring imagination-
Today was such a day
After grabbing my attention,
and coaxing a smile, my
thoughts shifted to the
reason for their beauty
The simple sharing of space-
Each taking their turn to
enlighten, offer shade,
or shine a spotlight
Days when we clasp hands
In such a way, it is nearly
Impossible to distinguish
Your heart from mine
My heart seeks
A place of safety
Not to hide, but to sing
At first, quietly to myself
until deep joy
Overflows
and I can sing
out loud with
Confidence
Hearing my voice
mingling with others
none looking to
stir up conflict
but instead, each one
pursuing lasting peace
Sharing a poem from Thanksgiving, 2020.
Sentiments remain the same.
Wishing you a week of thankfulness and peace. 🧡🕊💛
Piano Girl 