Pulling Weeds

Some are deceiving
Masquerading
As another one
Of the flowers
Hiding their roots
Amongst the foliage
Of otherwise
Healthy plants
And once unable
To contain
Their original intent
Begin showing
Tiny glimpses
Of green
Peeking through
In an attempt
To steal sunlight
From the buds
Preparing to open
Tricky they are
These weeds
Precision is required
To squash any
Irreparable damage
They might cause
It’s hard work
Pulling them out
By their roots
But only after
The labor is done
Will the heart
Be able to heal
And love bloom

Any guesses as to what I did this morning? I have no green thumb, but I enjoy the flowers in our front flowerbed. So, this morning I decided to pull weeds and do some trimming. Whew! What a job!

It seemed like each time I pulled weeds from an area, more would appear. And certain ones, well, their roots were strong. I’m not sure I got them all. Truthfully, I know I didn’t. But it did make me think about my heart.

It is easy to allow weeds to get in, tying me in knots. Wrapping around the good, trying to stifle it with confusion, anger, or impatience. A simple reminder to keep doing the hard work. And then stand back and enjoy the flowers. 🌸

Simply Sunday

Adventurous One

Early morning
When there is
Barely enough
Light to see
Or early evening
After the sun
Sinks below
The horizon
Those times
Are safest
For romping
And playing
In the soft blades
Expending
All energy
Before pausing
To graze our fill-
But some days
When the sun
Sits high in
The middle
Of the day
Temptation
Is too great
Warmth and light
Too much to ignore
All concerns
Disappear
As I run thru
Open fields
Fearless and free
For just a few
Moments
Until lovingly called
Back into the grove
Protected
In the shade
Of the trees

I’ve previously written about the herd of deer near our home. We often spot them in the early morning or late afternoon. I’m always glad to see them happily grazing in the field.

One day recently, I got a surprise. Driving by in the middle of the day, I spotted a young deer hopping in the field! It was all by itself. I could just imagine its mom calling from the edge of the trees, Ok! That’s enough! Playtime is over!

Cushioned Steps

Each careful step
Across the floor
Cushioned by
Layers of history
What was once alive
Now protects as it
Deteriorates
Feeding the earth
Lying underneath
How many have
Come and gone
Taken these same steps
Across lines of
Time and space-
Did they notice
The Luna moth
Drying her wings
In frilly foliage
Of gentle ferns
Or the bright orange
Mushrooms
Peeking out from
Underneath
The fern leaves
Were their steps cushioned as well?
Steps that allowed
Time for pause
Time for soaking up
All the forest
Has to say
About the past
The present
And the future

Well-Lived

Stoic
He stands
In the center
Of the forest-
Looking
From behind
The years of
Weathered ware
Show clearly
So much so
A passerby
Might question
Whether or not
He was still alive
Unless they
Keep walking
Circling
The forest floor
And spot his
One good arm
Outstretched
Hand waving
His face in
Full view-
Grandfather Tree
With his welcoming
Well-worn smile
I’ve got my fishing pole.
Are you ready to go?

Another cool and breezy day in Vermont. A morning hike and an afternoon winery visit. A yummy maple creemee. Not looking forward to the Oklahoma heat!

Pockets and Pebbles

We drove under a canopy of trees. So thick in stretches, we wouldn’t have been able to see the sun even if it had been shining. Winding switchbacks took us to the top of Mt. Mansfield. We marveled at the beautiful views.

Some of us closed our eyes and held on tight at certain turns. Well…one of us did, anyway. But that was not the thing that caused me to gasp. Instantly feeling like a little kid. Any guesses?

Giant rocks!

Boulders with great veins of quartz running through. Some were standing solitary. Others were stacked, forming small caves. Even others with trees growing against their faces. Those might have been my favorite.

Standing in the shadows of these giants, the kid in me wanted to fill my pockets with pebbles. No, I did not. Managed to rustle up some restraint.

Instead, I stood in awe of these majestic formations. Felt the embrace of their cool breeze. Accepted their invitation to climb, stand, and sit. And finally, to walk away feeling confident, steady, and grateful.

Pause and Wonder

In the shapes
Of clouds
In the leaves
Of trees
In the feathers
Of backyard birds
It is everywhere
But do we recognize it?
They say…
It is the spice of life.
Maybe there is more to it than that?
In the colors
Of our skin
In the traditions
Of our cultures
In the songs
Of our hearts
Variety draws us in
Gives us cause
To pause
And wonder
Encourages us
To embrace
Our differences
Before showing us
How very much
We are the same

Hydrangea blooms. All from the same plant.

Foothills

One glance
Then a second
Wrinkled brow
Curious smile
Where do the mountains end?
Where do the clouds begin?

A closer look
Would perhaps
Provide answers
If answers are
What I seek-
On third glance
I choose to simply wonder
At how this
Humble horizon
Takes over my thoughts
Leaves me dreaming
Of sitting
At the foothills
Longingly
Looking up
Toward the highest peak
Where questions cease
And peace overcomes
With the passing of a gentle mountain breeze

Simply Sunday

Light and Shadow

I sat with
The heaviness
All-day
My heart wrapped
In a blanket of grief
The day wrapped
In weeping clouds

A peak of the sun
Broke my stillness
Only a glance
Out the window
Surely I should not soak it in
How could I?
Amid so much suffering

That sweet sunshine
Not to be ignored
Determined to draw me out
Shone a little brighter
Bravely displaying light
And shadow
Simultaneously

I couldn’t keep from smiling
Even as my heart
Continued to cry

End of the trail. Keystone Ancient Forest. Sand Springs, OK

I participated in a writing circle yesterday facilitated by Ali Grimshaw fashlightbatteries. Time writing and sharing with this group of women was just what my heart needed. ❤️

Today, my husband and I went on a three-mile hike. It was a bit more challenging than I care to admit. 😉But the time spent with him, walking through the forest with no outside distractions, was also much-needed. I am so glad he encouraged me to keep going.

Offering

Rain stopped
Dark clouds
Remained
Casting
Shadows
That left
Little room
For reaction
Until
Sunlight
Pushed
Through
Casting
Shadows
Of dancing
Leaves on
The ground
Prompting
A brief smile
Before
Slipping back
Behind the gray

Chopin Prelude in e minor Kelley Morris, piano

Only Tears

The sky wept
Thru the night
Quieting only
For moments
At a time
To take a quick
Breath of air
That offered
No relief

No lightening
To break
The vast darkness
No thunder
To break
The veil of grief
Only the tears
Of broken hearts
Forever flowing

It must have been raining all over the world.