Anxiously waiting for
Family to arrive
Coming from what,
In my young heart
Seemed like a
Faraway place-
Used to be a short walk
Down the hill
A knock on the door
Hello! Come out and play?
Now visits were
Few, but precious
Filled with late nights
Laughter, memories
Never enough time
Never ready to say
Goodbye…
I see myself standing at
The end of the sidewalk
Unable to contain my tears
Waving until their faces
Drove out of sight-
Already anticipating
Our next visit
Lately my thoughts
Seem to wander
Backward
Focusing more on
Where I came from
Less on where I’m going
Hopes for things to come
New adventures in this
Wild, unpredictable life
Hang in the back of my mind
But those thoughts
Are not for today
Today is for remembering-
Seeing me as I once was
Embracing the path
That lead me to this
One singular moment
Embracing the faces
That loved me
No matter the detours
Showing gratitude as
I wander backward
And forwards
I don’t know where to begin. Yes, I am aware that sounds cliché, but it is the truth. Maybe I should write it out in its simplest form…
A collection of my poems is set to be released this summer! If I Were Made of Glass.
The contract has been signed. I have seen a sneak peek of the cover idea, done some proof-reading, exchanged ideas-but it continues to feel surreal.
I am grateful to River Dixon of Potter’s Grove Press and www.thestoriesinbetween.com for this opportunity. His creativity and insightfulness are a gift. I am honored to work with him.
This truly is a dream come true. I cannot wait to share more details. Stay tuned! ❤
Attended school until
The eighth grade
Not uncommon
For one born in 1923
Help was often
Necessary at home
Especially having
Elderly parents
Who needed care-
Married young
Babies came quickly
A full house of her own
But she was not
Uneducated as
Circumstances
Might suggest-
An avid reader,
Always a book in hand-
A thirst for knowledge
And meaningful conversations-
Needed to know the meaning
Or correct spelling
Of a word? The one to call-
I suppose you could say
She was self-taught-
If only I could
Call her right now
And tell her
How proud I am
To be called
Her granddaughter
Broken hearts, happy hearts
Both a part of this life
When we feel lost
Waiting to be found
When we are found
Hoping never
To be lost again
The heart measures
Time differently
It never forgets
Filling, breaking, mending
Then filling again
It never forgets
Growing, loving, beating
In sync with another
Following the tick-tock
Of the clock even though
An inaccurate gauge-
Where hearts
Are concerned
Time is fluid
Holding the possibilities
Of the universe
Within the rhythm
Of each heartbeat
Two people separated by
Doors, walls, a long hallway
One entered
The other remained
Not allowed to cross
This particular threshold
Leading to necessary discomfort
A small room where muscles
Are pinched and prodded
Where skin is broken
Then held together
Only one entered
The other remained
Both feeling discomfort
One physical
One emotional
Both holding tight
That is love
Connection that cannot
Be separated by
Doors, walls, or a long hallway
My husband, Gart, does not like for me to brag about him. Wednesday morning, he sat in not one but two different waiting rooms while I had a biopsy followed by a CT scan.
I knew no matter what happened, he would be there when I walked back out. Ready to listen and encourage. “Let’s not worry until we have something to worry about,” he would say.
That evening, I participated in my weekly poetry circle. This poem came from that time. Writing and listening with a group I have grown to love and trust.
I am thankful to report the biopsy showed no cancer! I will follow-up with my doctor next week. And I know if I need him to, he will wait once again in another waiting room. ❤
We are experiencing unusual winter weather in Oklahoma this week. Frigid temperatures and freezing rain made for a slow drive this morning. I had an early morning appointment at the hospital.
When looking directly out of the front windshield, all seemed gray. Bare trees were covered in ice. Brown and white were mixed on the road from the sand. A layer of white covered the grass. The sky was filled with gray clouds.
Sounds like a dreary scene. And parts of it could be described that way. But there were also bits of wonder. The icy tree limbs brought thoughts of a winter wonderland. Evergreens with white tips provided a lovely visual, making the green stand out.
I looked up and around, giving more attention to the sky, and noticed something. There were tiny hints of blue mixed with the gray. I had to squint to see it, but it was there. The sky was not completely gray, after all.
Funny how life is sometimes that way…squinting to see the blue skies.
Our hospital trip today was for a biopsy/CT scan. A necessary though unwanted addendum to my recent MRI day. MRI Day
As I’ve said before, I’m grateful for good health care. But honestly, I was nervous about these tests.
That blue mixed in with the gray this morning was a perfect reminder of the realities of this life. Beautiful, sad, joyful, difficult…all of it meshed together. That is life.
As I began to feel the strength from those offering prayers on my behalf, I also realized my own prayers for peace had been answered. That answer came through those swaths of blue sky mixed in with the gray.
What am I looking for?
Am I looking for anything?
Looking implies intent
As if something is missing-
Where are my keys?
Or a void needs filling-
Where is my friend?
If looking is not
An active part of my day
Does that mean I am
Simply roaming
Counting the minutes
Until the day is done?
Some days…
But on those other days,
I sometimes find something-
Something I didn’t even know I needed
Several times this past week, I thought about painting. An extra colorful sunrise on my drive to work or maybe the evening sky-I would notice a scene and think, “Wonder if I could paint that?”
Of course, time passed, and I used none of it for painting…until today.
My sister-in-law, Paula, was in town this weekend. She invited me and my daughter, Rachel, to a brunch today at my mother-in-law’s house. Thought it would be nice to have some girl time.
When Rachel and I walked in, it looked like a party! Pretty pink plates with gold polka dots, matching napkins graced a gold tablecloth. A coffee bar, mimosa bar, yogurt bar, scones, and yummy croissant breakfast sandwiches were displayed in the kitchen.
What a surprise! And then I noticed the centerpiece on the table. It was a flowery coffee cup with the letter K filled with pink flowers. Curious. Then my sweet mother-in-law, June, said, “Well, this brunch is for you.”
I have been a little nervous about some upcoming medical tests. The brunch was supposed to be a pick-me-up. That it was. ❤
We ate, laughed, talked, prayed, and I cried just a little. We also baked cookies and watched a great movie. I returned home relaxed and encouraged.
Guess what I did once back home? Painted! Maybe not one of the skies from previous days, but that does not matter. The love and kindness of family reminded me of the importance of slowing down. Enjoying time without worrying about what is to come.
It has been many years since
I sat around a campfire,
Or any fire created by
Putting a flame to a branch
Once belonging to a tree
Recent fires were made from
Glass, manufactured logs, and gas
Although these provide heat
As well as beauty
Something was missing
Perhaps it was the smell
Rising from the meeting
Of flame and wood
Changing based on
The origin of the tree
Perhaps it was the sight
Of the ashes left behind
Once the fire has gone out
Reminding us of our origins
And where our bodies will return
An unquestioned reliance
Assures us one spark will
Transform the cold night air
Maybe that was the difference-
The cold night air
Actually, I think there are
Too many differences to count-
Each one offering lessons
Frailty and faithfulness in
The physical and spiritual
Piano Girl 