We all begin
As a clean slate
Or do we?
How much of my mom
Was present from
The beginning?
What about my dad?
The physical likenesses
Are obvious, even expected
But what about nature-
Was I already more
Like one than the other?
Or did watching
Their example
Produce gradual growth
Transforming me not
From a blank slate
But from the outline
Of a complex
Paint-by-number portrait
Coming into view
As each new color
Is added and blended
Brushstrokes
Of emotions
And experiences
And connections
Rendering
My journey
Of Becoming
Tag: life
The Life of Leaves
This year carried
An increased awareness
Concerning the
Life of leaves
Usually, there’s
An excitement
With the appearance
Of new buds
A sweet sigh of relief
A sure sign of
Surviving the cold-
And, of course,
There is always
Oohing and Awing
Over their magical
Color changes in Fall-
But this year…
This year, it was
The bright green
Of newly opened leaves
That filled me with
Joy and hope-
Just like the smile
In my granddaughter’s eyes
Another poem from the writing circle. Thank you, Ali ❤️ https://flashlightbatteries.blog/
The Peace of Rain
When clouds appear soft
Their colors muted
Blending one with another
Covering the sky
With a grace-filled blanket
Evenly sharing their weight
Allowing for a healing release
Of raindrops so gentle
You barely notice them-
We forgot our umbrella
Should we go back?
Let’s follow the raindrops
Into this unexpected reprieve
From the busyness of life
Simply Sunday
Full Circle
From present to past
And back again
One step in your direction
And time was somehow erased
Another glance
And I saw us both
As younger and older
In the very same second
Smiles and hugs
Remember when’s…
But only a few-
Those memories
Were already lived
Now was the time
For sharing the space
That passed in between-
A foundation of knowing
And now a re-knowing-
You said it was a
Full-circle moment
And I think you were right
To friendships, old and new. ❤️
Weather Report
Cloud and Sun struggled
Over their place
In the sky today-
One provided shade
While carrying
Hints of rain
The other interrupted
With light and warmth
There was an ebb and flow
Within their banter
More like siblings
Vying for attention
Instead of a competition-
Of course, they had a
Captive audience-
Newly Bloomed Rose
Reported the following:
There was an encouraging air
Of cooperation overhead today

Simply Sunday
Dear Mom
I love that
You send me
Pictures of clouds
Telling me how
Pretty they are
On a particular day
Where you are
I love that you
Take time to notice
Assuring me it is ok
For me to pause
And take notice
Of the clouds
Assuring me it is not
Time wasted
But rather a time
For deep breaths
That leaves behind a
Happy, thankful heart


Baby Leaves
All it takes
Is one early
Spring shower
And bright
Green smiles
Suddenly appear
Around every corner
The color is so vibrant
So fresh and new
It causes me
To question
Whether or not
It is genuine-
Then, a quiet breeze
Happens to pass
And baby leaves
Begin to wave
Their friendly wave
The smiles growing
Instantly wider
-Theirs and mine-
And I am gently
Reminded to embrace
Each new season
With hope and faith
Oh, and maybe a smile

Heartfelt Revisions
When the notes
Fall out of tune
Will you still listen?
When my hands
Grow stiff and slow
Will my music still
Make you smile?
When wrong notes
Become noticeable
Will you still ask me to play?
Music played in the past
Not always playable
In the future-
Notes too many
Rhythms too complicated
Tempos too fast-
But what if
I intentionally
Left out a few notes
Simplified rhythms
Relaxed tempos-
As long as the music
Remained centered
In my heart, perhaps
You would not object
To my necessary revisions
Kelley Morris, piano
Unexpected Canvas
Crescent-shaped
Shadows
Gracefully swayed
Above the ground
Underneath the trees
On an unexpected canvas
A slab of concrete-gray
And yet, a backdrop
Able to artfully display
This rare masterpiece-
Looking up at the sky
I was in awe of
The heavenly origin
But if my gaze had
Remained in the sky
My soul would have
Missed the beautiful
Transformation
Of the shadows below

Simply Sunday
It is difficult
To remember
The me who
Once was seven
Do you find the same to be true?
Oh, there are glimpses
Flashes of childhood
Aided by photographs
And the reciting
Of stories at
Family gatherings-
I believe at seven
Happy outweighed sad
And freedom came
When swinging way up high
High enough to touch the sky
Then bravely jumping out
It is difficult
To remember
The me who
Once was seven
But I am grateful
For her spirit
Continuing
To reside in me
Even when I’m afraid
To jump out of the swing
