Strange to think
My voice sounds
Different to your ears
Than to mine-
An awareness
Only realized
When recorded
And played back-
Like listening
To a stranger
Nothing at all
Like the voice
Inside my head-
Sounds odd to me
But you don’t
Seem to mind-
I guess all that
Truly matters
Is for the voice
Inside my head
To match the one
Inside my heart
The recorded poem is from my latest collection, Quiet Embers: Poetry of Faith. Available here: https://a.co/d/89QGhz8 💜
Gray clouds soared
Across the sky
Like a flock of birds
Their feathery wings
Perfectly spaced
Providing each
An opportunity
For brief rest
While taking in
Blue ocean waves
Rising and falling below-
If not for the airy
Space in between
Those same clouds
May have appeared
The menacing type-
But, oh my!
How working
In Harmony
With the wind
Gave reason for
Imaginations to soar
Right alongside
Like a flock of birds
Their feathery wings
Perfectly spaced
A childhood photo
Favorite song
Cherished tradition
Competitive game
Of cousin kickball
Why would we attempt to recreate such things?
Because memories fade
Some we hope
To never forget
Others we wish
We could forget
But time is a teacher
Showing us where
Each puzzle piece belongs
And that our personal picture
Unlike the puzzle in a box
Has no straight edges
Always leaving room
For new connections
Happily sitting
Soaking
In the smiles
An observer
Of the ones
Who make me
What I am
And fill me
To my core
Precious days
Marked by traditions
And Celebration
Momentary stops
On this continuing
Path called
Carrying Grief
Where the hellos
Grow sweeter
And the goodbyes
Last longer-
A temptation
To hold on too tight
Tries to sneak in
But letting go
Through the tears
Is the only way
To feel fresh air
Enter my lungs
Clear my head
And heal my heart
This Christmas holiday season has been sweet. So much laughter and thoughtful gifts, surrounded by my family. Not to mention the yummy food!
But I was not prepared for the goodbyes.
Goodbyes are reminders of missing. And we are all missing Dad. The goodbyes brought tears and swells of grief. But they also left behind gratitude. A reminder that the depth of missing matches the depth of love.
I took a step
Into the cold
Where heavy
Shadows held
The quiet morning
In stillness-
One more step
And the motion
Of sunbeams
Began to light
The tiptop
Of the day-
A few more steps
Morning’s shadows
Were left behind
As affectionate
Sunlight reached
The ground below
And I walked
Into the day
Thankful for
The Love that
Creates the shade
While pushing
The darkness away
Since Dad passed, Mom has asked several times if there was anything of his I wanted. Initially, I took a couple of his sweater vests. I knew how much he liked wearing them. My mother-in-law made a sweet teddy bear from them that now sits in my studio.
When Mom would ask again, I really couldn’t think of anything else. That is, until this past weekend.
While in Little Rock picking up Mom for Christmas, I noticed my niece wearing one of Dad’s Razorback sweatshirts. It made me smile. And it helped us talk about him and how much we miss him. So, I asked about his other Razorback shirts.
Mom brought out two long-sleeve T-shirts and a jacket for me. I wasn’t sure if I’d wear them, but having them seemed right. If you know my dad, you know he loved to cheer on the Razorbacks. If they happened to be playing on network TV, he would watch. Otherwise, he had his radio nearby and tuned in to listen.
Well, today is Christmas Eve. And I decided to try on one of the shirts with some black leggings. Turned out to be the perfect choice. I miss him so much. But today, I am smiling as I remember.
Colors fly past
My periphery
Golden browns
And burnt oranges
Sewn together
With threads of
Yellow and green
A heavy quilt
Covering the cold
Winter ground-
Tiny feathered creatures
Rest within the soft
Patchwork
Until ready
To announce
Their presence
Rising and falling
A mesmerizing
Magic carpet
Murmuration
All moving
Together as one
One last sit
On the couch
Walk around the
Neighborhood
Swing on the swing
Slide down the slide-
Cleaning out
Packing up
Off on a new
Adventure-
Life’s changes
Don’t always
Provide opportunity
To savor the lasts
But when it does
May I suggest
Sitting on that
Old couch
Just a little bit longer-
Our daughter moved this weekend. Not far away, thankfully. 😉 As we talked about the specifics of loading and unloading, she reminded me of an earlier move.
The kids were young. We were preparing for a big move, and had a moving sale. Our things displayed in the front yard. I will never forget one request from the kids. Can we please have one last sit on the couch?
After all these years, I think I’m beginning to understand the wisdom in their request. ❤️
Holding
My breath
Muscles tense
Heart racing
Afraid to move-
You take my hand
It’s ok-breathe
I feel my lungs
Expand
Deep breath
Fresh air
Relaxing
In your care
Unable to
Completely
Close off
My heart
As we
Breathe
In time
Together
Colors fading
Frail frame
Shivers
Awaiting
Winter’s coat
Yet, in the light
Of the morning sun
Beauty shines
Unmistakable
In a life well-lived
Grace on display-
Perhaps time
Is not a thief
Afterall
And instead
Brings us
To a place
Of inspiration
Able to set
A wise example
For those afraid
Of what’s to come-
Reassurance
Revealed
In the wisdom
Of so many seasons
Come and gone
Piano Girl 