A gaggle of geese
flying overhead in
perfect formation
A formation of clouds
branching out across
the sky at sunrise
The branches of a tree
securely holding leaves
until their time to fall
Your hand holding mine
filling the empty spaces
between my fingers
Images comparable
in angle and purpose-
open and strong
Unexpected gifts
healing my heart
with their presence
Tag: life
Quiet Calling
Faint lines evenly divided
the morning mist
reminding me of the lines
on staff paper, waiting
for the composer’s
song to dot its
blank lines and spaces-
Or the lines in my journal
waiting for words to
fill its blank pages
A composition of melody
and harmony working
through dissonance-
A story of life and love
acknowledging the roles
of grief and loss
I’ve never considered
any possible purpose
for the morning mist
except blurring vision
and slowing travel
Perhaps today, it was
waiting for me, curious
what I would place on
its lines and in its spaces
Whether I will allow dissonance
to permeate my day, or
be peacefully resolved
in the ebb and flow
of another day
Simply Sunday
I sit quietly, mesmerized
by the path of a morning breeze
travelling from the peak
of a tall oak, downward
until each branch, each leaf
engaged in childlike song.
The entire tree danced, as if
calling me to join in
until the breeze moved on
to the loblolly across the fence.
I watch as the breeze
continues conducting.
Whole sections of the loblolly
swaying and swirling in grand gestures
like a gentle giant preparing
to pick a tiny flower.
The same breeze spoke
through both trees.
Responses varied due to
their individual states of being.
Results proved equally persuasive.
Songs my soul needed to hear.
Lessons my heart aches to understand.
Fingerprints
From our very first reach,
we leave lasting imprints
Tiny fingers, tiny toes
unaware of the enduring
impact engraved on
all who hold us close
Choice eventually becomes
part of the equation-
Deciding if what we leave behind
is positive, helpful, encouraging,
or cynical, hurtful, disheartening
Each imprint is personal
an identifying set of
lines and ridges
creating a pattern-
Sacred responsibility
held in every touch
I saw such a fingerprint
in the afternoon clouds-
Lines and ridges
creating a pattern
belonging to the one
who holds the sky
Birds
I picture them perched
along electric wires
carefully watching
as we pass by.
I wonder what they think of us?
Are their conversations more
logical than ours? Friendlier?
They sing such sweet melodies.
Yes, they also squawk
and screech, but for a
purpose-imminent danger
or a particular need.
I can hear them now
calling each other
back and forth across
the yard, tree to tree.
Hey there! Will you fly over for a visit?
Sure! Let me finish feeding the babies.
I gathered some extra twigs to bring you!
Thank you! See you soon!
Perhaps we could learn
from the birds if we
intentionally listen
and quietly observe.
Perhaps we could learn
from each other
the exact same way…
Plain Sight
He sits cross-legged
in the middle of the sidewalk
A tan coat, dirty and worn,
the final layer of protection
over all his belongings
all of his belongings
Hands in pockets
Hood over head
Shoulders hunched
Hidden in plain sight
Foolishness claims he
chose this lifestyle
That throwing away
His belongings will
magically clean
up the streets
Instead, this demolition
paves a dangerous path
toward ignoring our
responsibility to love,
no matter what
A dangerous path
whitewashed as a
much-improved scene,
until close observation
reveals the truth
Someone’s son helplessly
sits in the middle of the sidewalk
Hands in pockets
Hood over head
Shoulders hunched
Hidden in plain sight
First Few Notes
Like an old friend
whose gentle voice
immediately fills your soul
so is the song whose first few notes
gently pull you into a familiar embrace
Tears and smiles
grapple for their rightful
place in an emotional response
before finally acknowledging the
intention was always to coexist
Working together
they plant melodic lines
and poetic lyrics deep inside
the heart of the youngest listener-
at first, unaware of their influence
Roots grow, weaving in,
out, and around the decisions
and experiences of life, creating
a sweet, pliable core of awareness
always ready for another listen
And then one day…
A familiar chord
A long-fade ending
like a trusted friend
offers a lingering sense of sweet
acceptance…a hopeful see you again soon
Kelley Morris, piano
Grab Hands
My heart says rise above
Don’t be pulled down by
the weight of ugly words
and thoughtless actions
My head generates
logical responses
intended to make me
sound more intelligent
Where is the love in that?
Held back, pressed
down and further
down, tying me
to deep discontent
Where is the answer hiding?
Perhaps if I stop
thinking only of myself
and grab your hand
and we run through
a field so fast our feet
begin to hover
above the ground
before we fall into
the soft grass, laughing
and gaze at the clouds
Perhaps…
Enduring Imprint
The sky was dark
except for a few stars
and distant street lights
I watched in amazement
as the space station
flew overhead
It soared like an
undying meteorite
moving in slow motion
My eyes followed
its path until a swath
of mysterious white rays
painted on the horizon
blocked it from view
Had sun rays carved
an evening cloud bank
into evenly spaced beams?
The sun had long since
disappeared from my
little corner of the world
Long out of sight, yes
but its impact remained
quietly reminding me
of the enduring imprint
etched into my once
stilled heart by the
light of lasting Love
Simply Sunday
Returning Customers
Her quiet way and
seasoned mannerisms
eased my impatience
I watched as she wrote
each order in shorthand
on paper tickets
Waited as she entered prices
one key at a time on an
old-fashioned cash register
She was part of a well-oiled
machine concerned with
service and product, not speed
Have you been here before?
Yes, this is my second visit
We love returning customers
Right, Alex? Glancing behind me
Looking back at me, she smiled
You have a beautiful smile
An unexpected compliment
while ordering lunch
I smiled back, Thank you
Piano Girl 