The snowy owl sleeps
through the day,
resting her wings,
her body, her eyes
She waits until darkness
falls to take flight
What path will she take this night?
The familiar line following trees
along the river and up
into the mountains?
She knows it well
But something stirs her, gently
ruffles her feathers-Calling
her out of the familiar
and into the Valley
Not a sad place, but
a place to grow –
until once again, the sun
rises and she sleeps
Tag: music
Simply Sunday
In Plain Sight
Perched atop golden,
fluffy cattails, confidently
exclaiming, Here I am!
Crimson red wings,
glowing in contrast to
his black-as-night body.
There is no mistaking him,
and I think he knows it.
His ability to remain
perfectly balanced on
such a fragile stage.
His “I did it my way”
anthem soaring across
the field, remarkable!
I’m not sure whether
to bow, smile, or perhaps
simply call Bravo! Encore!
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.
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
Powerful Peace
The sound of water
rushing over rocks-
A demonstration of power.
An offering of peace.
Where does one end?
Where does the other begin?
What is the source?
Is it the water? The wind?
What about the rocks?
Unmoving, they tolerate
the rushing water.
Over time, the water smoothes
their rough edges.
And the wind? It freely carries
their story of transformation.
Listen. Can you hear their song?
A message of determination, finding
Peace in the middle of chaos.
Can you hear your story in theirs?
Riverfront Park-Spokane, Washington 💙
Fear and Hope
The Unknown
Thought of with excitement,
or overwhelming fear.
For me, the fear part usually
rises in the middle of the night.
Like waking up from a dream
with a sudden Gasp!
Except, this kind of fear is not a dream.
Dream or no dream, I have
no control over the outcome.
And worrying about all that remains unseen,
does nothing to enhance my state of being.
Not to say it is easy to push the fear away, but I keep trying…
Breathe.
Look out the window.
Find that glimmer of hope
calling to your soul, ready and waiting
to swallow up your fears.
Her Song
I know her song,
though it changes often.
Depends on the day’s path.
Does she choose her own?
I wonder.
When traveling through
A grove of Aspens,
her melody is gentle and sweet.
Each glistening leaf
adds a note of color.
When coursing over rough rocks
on the shoreline, her melody
grows stronger, driving forward
with each pulse of the current.
Both melodies, both paths,
inspire awe and wonder.
Listen. What is she singing for you today?
Poems from the poetry circle. ❤️
Simply Sunday
Happily Lost
I’ve sensed rhythm
In the rain before
But this time was different-
The raindrops seemed
To create patterns of
Threes and fours
Triplets and sixteenths
Alternating, gently pulling
And pushing the tempo
Of the song playing
On the radio-
How was this possible?
I crinkled my forehead
As if a deeper focus might
Answer my question-
But then the patterns were gone
Whirled away with the wind
Leaving my mind to rest-
No matter-
For just a moment
I was happily lost
Between the rain and a song
Kelley Morris, piano
Missed Connections
After several days of struggling to express my feelings, three things came my way- A poem, a song, and a verse. The following was inspired by all three. ❤️
The word itself sounds so carefree
Putting it into practice seems easy
Still, loneliness grows
At a surprisingly rapid pace-
Whatever the reason
It sprouts from the same root
-A lack of connections-
Even the longest relationship
Begins Somewhere-
A friendly smile
An acknowledging nod
An honest thank you–
Whether two strangers
Develop a fast friendship
Or just continue walking
In opposite directions
That one single action
Holds power for both-
It is a sacred moment
With the ability to multiply into
Our most-needed reminders-
You are seen
You matter
You are loved
Small Kindnesses by Danusha Lameres https://grateful.org/resource/small-kindnesses/
Human Touch by Jackson Browne
and Leslie Mendelson
Human Touch
“Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.”
1 John 4:11 NIV
Simply Sunday
The Earth is still
Cold and quiet
Not frozen to the core
Yet, longing to
Soak in and reflect
Any ray of sunlight
Able to reach the surface-
What about my heart?
Is it cold, quiet, frozen?
Or simply longing-
Longing to remember
The love sent long ago-
A precious baby
Held close by His mother
Greeted by cattle and sheep
While angels filled the sky
Piano Girl 