Freeze Frame

Pictures holding
History stored
In memory banks
Called to the surface
In a single snap
Of my fingers
Leaving me
Wondering
Why that?
Why now?
Why then?
Times I would
Like either
To forever
Forget or
Always
Remember
Each frame
Projecting
Enough
Power to
Push me into
A time-warp
Of emotions
Unless…
I slow down
Pay attention
Freeze
Each
Frame
Long enough
To grasp
This truth-
The past
Enriches
The present
Either by
Making me
Thankful
For changes
Grateful
For growth
Or content
With constants

Carry Hope

Do you ever feel
Restless
Lose track of time
Or maybe your
Car keys

Focus blurry
From
Tired body
Tired mind
Too much time
Thinking about
Life’s worries…
Place your hands
Over your eyes
As a shield
But remember to
Spread your fingers
Wide enough for
Tiny particles
Of sun dust
To filter thru
The open spaces
And carry hope
Into your heart

This past weekend, a song I had not heard in a long time came to mind. One of those you are not alone kinds of songs. I don’t know about you, but I needed to hear these words, soak them in and then send them back out. Have a listen.

https://youtu.be/61Wm_qlVD4Q Brother by Need to Breathe

Leg Lifts

I am in the middle of a six-week physical therapy program for my back. It is both necessary and helpful. And it is also kicking my butt while reminding me of my age. My actual age, not the one I imagine.

You are as young as you feel. A common phrase. The truth is our bodies eventually wear out. We can eat right and exercise. Buy products advertising prolonged youth. All the while knowing it is impossible to reverse time.

Instead of fighting to stay young, I’d like to work at aging gracefully. But when my hip begins to cramp in the middle of leg lifts, two sets of fifteen-well, graceful is not the word I would choose.

Powering through those leg lifts did provide a feeling of accomplishment. Accomplished…maybe I need to combine goals. Strive to be gracefully accomplished. I think that sounds better. Even if it means continuing those leg lifts until the cramps in my hip are no more. 😉

Heavy Hearts

Your sweet smile
Gives no hint
Of the hurt
In your heart
They say children are resilient
That may
Be true
But a heart
Can only hold
So much pain-
When loss and
Instability
Frame each day
The future
Will not go
Untouched-
Not to say
There is no hope
Only that there are
No easy answers
Except for the ability
To always return
Your sweet smile

Each time I learn about another student facing traumatic circumstances, my heart grows heavy. Here they are, at school, trying to function. And quite often with a smile.

I am also reminded to stop and listen. Be patient and not too quick to judge behaviors. Seek out helpful information. Find ways to encourage.

Not that I am always successful. Honestly, my patience level today was low. But tomorrow is a new day. Another chance to observe, listen and love.

Simply Sunday

Hemmed In

When my mind
Grows frantic
Unable to
Separate
One thought
From another
Enduring
A constant
Bombardment
Of words
Images
Sounds
An unexpected
Gentle breeze
Quiet song
Safe hug
Causes me
To be still
And pray
Hem me in
Simple words
Bringing rest
To the mind
And soul
The whole
Of me held
Together
Bordered
By a love
Unmistakable
And secure

You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.”

Psalm 139:5

One More Glance

Searching
For a smile
Through fog
And darkness
Although
Not yet visible
Trusting
It is there
Waiting for
Just the right
Moment
To appear
Glance to one side
And then the other
Still no smile
Stepping out
Of the car
Deep sigh
One more glance
There it is!
A single strand
Of pink light
Between
The bluish grays-
I breathe deep
Smile back

In the Rain

Stood outside
In the rain
Today
Don’t do that
Often enough
Drops dampened
My dress
Frizzed
My hair
Cooled
My skin
The beginning
Farewell
Of Summer
Blurring with
The beginning
Hello
Of Fall
Not that
I would
Recommend
Standing
In the rain
Every day
Only every
Now and then
To wash away
What needs
Washing away

Rain began to fall right as school ended today. This made for a damp dismissal. I had a few moments of irritation but then thought of this common phrase; a little rain never hurt anyone.

It certainly did not hurt me today. And it reminded me how quickly the seasons pass.

Writing Circle

Sharing two poems I wrote in a recent poetry circle facilitated by Ali Grimshaw https://flashlightbatteries.blog/. I continued to be amazed at the beautiful connections made across many miles over computer screens. ❤️

At Seven

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
The reciting
Of stories at
Family gatherings
I believe at seven
Happy outweighed sad
And freedom came
When swinging
To 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

Tiny Boxes

Hours spent
Together
Make me want
To remember
Not just the present
But every visit past-
Each block of time
Long or short
Places another box
Inside my heart
Tiny boxes
Full of surprises
To open when
Days are long
Mind-wandering
Tiny boxes
Fighting battles
Threatening
To take away
Focus, purpose, joy
Tiny boxes
Filled with
Memories
Of loving and
Being loved

Autumn Travels

Unable to see it directly
As I drive toward the east
Only a quick glance
In the rearview
Assures its
Appearance
Eyes back on the road
Lavenders
And pinks
Soon fill the sky
In my periphery
Both to the north
And to the south
Gradually blending
With the darkening
Indigo up ahead
Although unable
To see it directly
For a few moments
Sunset surrounds me
Sharing its splendor
Carrying me
Into the night
Leaving me ready
For peaceful rest

Alive

Sole of
My foot
Pressing
Against
Warm concrete
Rocking chair
Gently
Moving me
Back and forth
As I watch
Pines dance
Across the way
Strong-yet,
Graceful
One leaning
Into the next
And the next
Then back again
Their inspiration
Originating from
The same
Cool breeze
That graces
My face
I am alive
And although
There are no
Instruments
No melody
There is music
All the same

Dust in the Wind by Kansas Kelley Morris, piano

This song may not match the sentiments of this poem exactly. However, there is one line that stood out to me today. A line I had not given much thought to when I was younger. It really is the simple things.

“…and all your money won’t another minute buy.”