I wonder why
The hero is
Most often pictured
Riding into the sunset
Embraced
By the warmth
Of the deepest orange
Another day done
Ready for well-deserved rest…
Instead of riding
Toward the sunrise
Layered with colors
Bright and muted
Light calling
Through shadows
To the possibilities
Of a new day, imagined
But, not yet seen
I don’t have an answer.
I only wonder if
Perhaps the sunrise
Might shift focus
To the journey
Instead of the reward
I watched
And listened
Curious
As they fell
Both individually
And collectively
Creating patterns
For eyes and ears
To interpret
And hearts
To contemplate
Providing
Sweet relief
For scorched
Nooks and corners
Aching for relief
Grateful recipients
Ready to flourish
Alongside
Spring flowers
Sharing space
In the day’s landscape-
I don’t think I’ve ever seen
Such pretty raindrops!
Hello there!
I hoped we might
See you today
Always look forward
To your visits
What’s that?
Yes, I imagine
It takes a lot
Of energy
For you to make
An appearance
Yesterday’s warmth
And sunshine
Must have been
The perfect pairing
You can’t stay long?
I understand
We will enjoy
Each other’s company
As long as we are able
What a difference one sunny day makes! 💛
Morning drives
Typically, uneventful
Leave at a certain time
To arrive at a certain time
The same certain time every day-
Despite the routine
Most days my heart hopes
For the unexpected
And when it appears
It is always in the same spot
How does that still count as unexpected?
Grazing quietly
In the field
Looking up quizzically
As I drive by
Or hopping through the grass
Showing off fluffy white tails
Any number of soft brown deer
Passing on a surprised smile
An audible gasp
Pure unexpected joy
Another poem from a recent poetry circle. ❤️
I see her
Resting quietly
In the middle
Of her nest
Contemplating
As pieces
Of her heart
Sit on the edge
Flirting with that space
Between the known
And the unknown
Ready to fly
But waiting
For one more note
Of encouragement-
Even the slightest nudge
Thought part of the job
Feels like a shove-
At least, to her, it does…
Take a breath, Mama Bird-
They will be ok
And so will you
Unaware
I was searching
Looking up
To the wild sky
Surrounded
By towering pines
Unaware
I was searching
Listening intently
To the bird’s morning song
Carried on the afternoon breeze
Unaware
I was searching
Until a stillness
Within the motion
Caught my breath-
There you are!
Aware
I was both
Finder and found
Fog rises over
A golden field
Not dense
Holding just enough
Presence
For sunbeams
To paint
Their portraits
Across the hazy canvas-
Temporary
Yet, beautiful
Reflecting
Yet, dissipating
Energy soaked in
Then released
Into another day
Another time
When light and mist
Once again
Cross paths
Creating art
Creating life
A variety of shades
So generous
No room remains
For counting
Though sometimes
Counting is fun
In this case
Any attempt
Seems futile-
But who knows
Maybe counting
Would serve to
Increase
The imaginings
That accompany
The realization
Of a new sky
On a new day
With countless
Possibilities
Ready and waiting
For our attention
I often forget
The depth of the well
And its capacity to hold
The fluidity of feelings
No matter their origin-
Until one sentiment
Rises to the top
Threatening a flood
Before slowly floating
Down, down, down
Once again resting
At the bottom of the well-
What would happen
If the tide was not
Contained
Allowed to spill over
Soaking its surroundings
With grief, joy, sadness, peace…
Perhaps next time
I feel a catch
In my throat
I’ll let all of the tears fall
Then search for my reflection
Along with those of the
Blue sky and green leaves
In the puddle that forms
Beside the tree
Where I choose to rest
When the Spring tree
Notices its green leaves
Shimmering as it peers
Into the clear blue lake
When the setting sun
Shares its warm glow
Lighting the leafless tree
With its dusky orange
When I see past
The marks of time
And see a bit of you
In my changing reflection
When I see myself
In your sweet smile
And wonder…
Do you see it, too?
Piano Girl 