Praying for Rain

The ground
Is parched
Grass once green
And inviting
Grows brown
Crunching
Beneath my feet
Trees struggle
To survive
Their leaves
Hanging on
For it’s too soon
For them to fall
One single spark
And the results
Would be
Devastating
Praying for rain

The Earth
Is parched
Tears shed in
Sadness and grief
But also in
Reconciliation
All dried up
People struggle
To survive
Their children
Hanging on
For it’s too soon
For them to fall
One single spark
And the results
Would be
Devastating
Praying for rain

How can this be?
Seems only yesterday
The ground was wet
With the tears of an entire world-
Are there no more left to cry?
I do not believe so, but what is the answer-

My soul
Is thirsty
Longing for
A cool breeze
A steady rain
Not a storm
Filled with
Lightening
And thunder
No loud voices
Sharing dissent
For all to hear
Instead, the quiet
Whisper of love
Sent in raindrops
Coaxing our tears
To once again join in
Watering the ground

Writing Circles

Sharing two poems today that I wrote in a recent poetry circle with Ali Grimshaw. If this is something you’ve considered participating in, check out her website. I continue to be amazed at the process and thankful for the connections. ❤️ https://flashlightbatteries.blog/

Hold the Door!

The same door
Same hallway
Same faces, mostly
Day in, day out
Oh, it’s a fine door
Bright hallway
Smiling faces, mostly
What would happen if I changed my entrance?
No, not a different door
Just held this door
For someone else
Walked that hallway
With intention
Bravely met all
Those faces
Not just with a smile
But with me
Whatever me happens
To show up that day-
Honest, unafraid
My heart open
Ready to receive
Ready to be received

Circles of Change

Thought I was walking
Down a new path
Confident change
Was preparing
To peak out from
Around the corner
At any minute
Any corner…
Any day now…
But it remained
Hidden-not ready
To show its face
Maybe I had been
Walking around
In a circle
Seems I am back
Where I started
Or perhaps
That magnetic
Starting line
Loosened its grip
Just a bit
Before gently
Pulling me back
Tugging at my heart
Allowing time to grasp
A new perspective-
After all, life’s
Biggest changes
Are often felt, not seen

Simply Sunday

45 rpm

Seven-inch
Vinyl disc
Placed on
A circle
Within
A magic box
Turn the knob
Watch it spin
Forty-five
Rotations
Per minute
Place the needle
Listen as it
Moves across
The ridges
Releasing
Its power
Releasing
The music

I saw the movie Elvis yesterday with my friend, Marina. I grew up listening to Elvis. Watched his concerts on television. Remember the breaking news on the day he died.

I also remember dancing around a record player with my cousins at grandma’s house. Hound Dog and Don’t Be Cruel were our choice of 45s. We all loved Elvis.

Elvis had a style all his own, and it was controversial. People either loved him or hated him. But his roots were honest and truthful. And his contributions to our nation’s musical heritage are of great value. I am thankful his 45s were part of my childhood.

Forever Tied

Delicate petals
Painted purple
And white
Pale yellow
Center
Completing
The bloom

Caught my eye
In a moment
Of exhaustion
A welcomed pause
To catch my breath
What is your name?
Need to keep moving
A quick photograph
To research later…

Images of you
Graced the walls
Of a coffee shop
Artfully framed
Thoughtfully
Displayed
Carefully labeled
With the answer
I was seeking

Kneeling down
I read the card
Unexpected
Sadness
At the realization
Your name is
Forever tied
To a senseless
Act of violence-

Columbine-

Delicate petals
Painted purple
And white
Pale yellow
Center
Completing
The bloom-

Simply Sunday

One More Time

Mountain breeze drifts by
Meadows and pines gently sway
Whispering my name

I couldn’t resist sharing our trip to Colorado one more time. Grateful for time with family in this beautiful place. ❤️

I lift up my eyes to the mountains. Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

Draw Close

Tiny lanterns
Too numerous
To count
Carefully drape
The night skies
A select few
Are strung
Between
Silhouetted
Pine branches
Beautifully
Complex
And yet
The simplest
Of words
Draw close
Twinkle, twinkle little star
Familiar tune
Quietly hums
In the night air
Star light, star bright
Innocent wishes
From days gone
Gently return
The simplest
Of words
Tiny lanterns
Driving the darkness away

Colorado sky at 3:00 A.M.

Closer to Clouds

Not sure which
Took my breath
Away first…
Beauty
Or elevation
A 360 degree
Perspective
No formations
Blocking my view
I could see
Where I was going
And where I’d been
All of it
Storms ahead
Storms behind
Cool breezes
And sunlight
In between
Clarity of lessons
Learned quickly
As well as those
Requiring repetition
Each one
Revealing purpose
In passing landscapes
No wish
To speed ahead
No wish
To slow down
Only the desire to be
Only the desire to live

I love spending time in Colorado. One specific area holds many memories. Family vacations with parents, kids, grandparents, grandchildren, and great-grandparents. Honeymoons and holidays, hiking, and fishing. Feeding the chipmunks. And, of course, beautiful scenery.

Gart and I are traveling to this spot with our three grown kids and daughter-in-law. What a treat! This sentimental mom can’t help looking back and looking forward. But mostly, I’m just enjoying all of us being together.

Expecting Finches

Pine needles
Flutter
As the wind
Prepares them
For the day ahead-
Guests will be arriving soon!
With little resistance
They continue
Rapidly moving
Back and forth
Up and down
Blurring
Into one seemingly
Singular motion
Their guests
Will be small
Yet, the hopping
Of tiny feet
From branch
To branch
Has been known
To wreak havoc
And reassurance
Is required-
Pine needles
Work together
Hold tight to your branches
Only then will you
Be able to welcome
This charm of trembling finches
Into your arms of grace and strength

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. 🌸

Bridges

So many
Conflicting
Thoughts
On one side
Shouts of anger
Worry and fear
On the other
Celebrations
Claims of victory
Somewhere
In the middle
Feeling
Desperately sad
Yet, believing
There is a way
To bridge
This chasm
Life is precious
Feel it in my bones
But it is also
Devastatingly
Difficult
If I fail to
Acknowledge
The latter
Celebrating
The first
Rings hollow
Solutions
Only arrive
Covered
In layers upon
Layers of love
So deep, one voice
Can neither explain
Nor take credit
For the outcome

Let love and kindness be the motivation behind all that you do. I Corinthians 16:14

My intention is not to simplify our current state of affairs, only to take a breath. 💔