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

I Am Smiling!

Feelings
Often show
Right
On
Our
Faces
Before
We even
Understand them
Ourselves
There they sit
Right
On
Our
Faces
For all the world
To see
For all the world
To interpret
And though
Interpretations
Are likely
Incomplete
Perhaps
The attempt
To understand
Will prove
A first step
To understanding

I caught a glimpse of myself in an airport restroom mirror. The person staring back at me did not look happy. Add another inconvenience. Nothing major. Just a broken latch on the restroom door. That’s all.

What is wrong with me? I don’t like the look on my face.

An investigation provided the following information:

  • My 4:00 A. M. alarm was rude. I need my sleep.
  • No time for tea before my first flight. Tea wakes me up.
  • Travel is exhausting. But the adventures are worth the stress. I think…

Now put a smile back on that face and get on the next flight home!

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!

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.

Simply Sunday

Optics

From a distance
The distance
Between them
Seemed
Unremarkable
A series of
Ups and downs
Over rolling hills
Around sharp curves
Always maintaining
The appearance
Of connection
Perhaps it was
The alternating
Each taking a turn
In the lead
Until rest
Was required
And a graceful
Exchange
Occurred
One-hand
Reaching forward
The other back
No need for even a glance-
I suppose distance was
Never really a factor
As their hearts
Always seemed
To precede
Their hands

Quick to Dismiss

You and I have
A difference
Of opinion
As far as
Differences
Of opinion go
Since an opinion
Is quite often
Not completely
Based on facts
Perhaps we could
Put this one aside
Yes, it seems
Important now
Emotions heightened
With every discussion
But is it worth dismissing each other?
Flesh and blood
Heart and soul
Isn’t it worth attempting a connection?
If our hands could
Briefly touch
Surely our hearts
Would follow

President Biden spoke last evening concerning the epidemic of gun violence in our country. His words expressed sadness, compassion, and anger. His call to action was passionate as well as logical.

So many lives were lost. Families destroyed. Are we so stuck and stubborn in our thoughts and opinions? Is there no room left for compromise? I refuse to believe that is true.

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

Trouble?

Have you ever heard someone say-
Trouble? That’s my middle name!

The thought of it
Makes me chuckle
Trouble is a word
I typically avoid
As a teacher

Phrases like
Boy, are you in trouble now!
Or
You are going to be in so much trouble!
Erased from my vocabulary

What is trouble anyway?
A challenge
A hurdle
A test
All capable of imparting
Knowledge and growth
Perhaps a drop of wisdom

Hmmm…maybe I should adopt that mantra
Proudly exclaiming
Who, me? That’s right!
Trouble is my middle name!

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