Even the warm
Sunshine
Was unable
To keep
The shadow
Of dread away-
Like a dark cloud
Approaching
Warning of storms
Up ahead
While providing
No instructions
For preparation
Or survival
Only questions-
What is about to happen?
How will I respond?
A revelation lifts
The uneasiness
But leaves behind
A sadness
The weight of it
Heavy
Pulling strings
Between souls
Across minor chords
Tension eased only
Through shared tears
My dad’s only living brother, Sam, is not expected to live much longer. I have not seen him in years. And yet, this news brought sadness.
Dad has only been gone a few months. I know the heartache Sam’s loss will bring to others in my family.
Family ties are often stretched and sometimes broken. I’m so thankful Dad and Sam were able to reconnect in recent years. https://pianogirlthoughts.com/2021/04/01/brothers/
Tag: poetry
Painted Maps
Red clay roots
Must run deep
I can’t think of
Any other reason
For your vibrancy
A fiery reddish orange
Creating community
Wherever you grow-
In some instances
Grouped together
In small bouquets
To mark celebrations
Or remembrances
Most of the time
Woven amongst
Blades of green grass
A colorful lace carpet-
Unafraid to share
Your birthplace
A variety of colors
Dances with you
On the breeze-
Pale pinks
Lovely lilacs
Sunwashed yellows-
Welcomed as part
Of your family-
Imagine I was a bird–
Gliding overhead
Following painted maps
A witness to your beauty
A witness to the power
Of shared roots across
Uncommon ground
Planting Harmony
Driving down
A two-lane road
Rows and rows
Of sprouting crops
Wrap me in
A soothing hug-
So much has
Happened
Is still happening
Above and below
The Earth to ensure
Their survival…and mine–
Within their embrace
I see logic planted
In harmonic lines
Mathematics
Mixed with music
My heart beats
In the spaces
Between each
Row of green
My soul sings
Sweet and free
Not wanting
This song to end
Simply Sunday
Much of last week felt heavy. Saturday, I was thankful to spend time writing with my friend, Ali. https://flashlightbatteries.blog/ What a treat! I wrote the following poem during our time together. It seemed like the perfect choice for Simply Sunday. Hope you enjoy it! ❤️
Hold My Hand
Where were you in my yesterday?
Where will you be in my tomorrow?
A thought
A smile
A memory
Today, you may
Very well
Hold my hand
And that is
A beautiful thing
Even if only
For a moment
Sometimes
A moment is
All that is needed
To carry us
Into tomorrow-
Where was I in your yesterday?
Where will I be in your tomorrow?
Near Perfect
Space Between Seems vast Both in distance And significance One nearby Easily seen But often Overlooked The other Requiring Near perfect Conditions For clear Viewing- Which holds more sway? That far-away star Or your crooked smile- Guess it depends On who you ask
Secret O’ Life by James Taylor ~Kelley Morris, piano
Einstein said he could never understand it all.
Planets spinning through space; the smile upon your face.
Remedies
I want it to
Go away
The feeling itself
And the way
It makes me feel
Yesterday
It refused-
Sticking around
Like a dull
Headache
Affecting
All of me-
Blurry vision
Upset stomach
Tense muscles-
So it goes
With anger
But like that
Dull headache
I know it will ease
When carefully
Tended with
The right remedies
Anger is listed in the stages of grief. But somehow, I was not expecting it to be part of my experience. That is not my personality. Nor did I understand its close relationship with sadness. That is, until this week.
Driving to work Monday, I had a sudden image of Mom and Dad at home. They were going through their morning routine, smiling. I smiled. Just as suddenly, I felt mad. Angry at the reality that he is not there with her.
Honestly, I did not recognize it as anger at first. But it did not fade. Two things helped. Naming it and allowing it to work its way out thru tears.
Smiling helps, too. It's just that some days that requires a bit more intention.😊
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Each bird has
Its song
Each song
Its melody
Each melody
Its contour
But each voice?
Well, that is a
Bit more complex
Changing with age
A familiar timbre
Develops, yet
Can be altered
In an instant
By circumstance
And emotion-
Whether warm
And welcoming
Afraid and unsure
Or confident
And caring
One thing is sure-
A deep-down longing
Rises, a desire
To hear the voice
Of one no longer here
Just one more time
A longing not
Easily erased
A longing
Leading me to
Scour through
Voicemails
While listening
For memories
Of your voice
Inside my head
Goodnights
Tiny hand
Gently
Patting me
On the back
Head quietly
Resting
On my shoulder-
Hands folded
Held still
Near your face
As I tuck you
Snuggly in bed-
Seemed like
Overnight
You were too big
To be tucked in
Staying up
Later than
Mom and dad
A sweet
Reversal of roles
The big kid
Coming in
To tell us goodnight-
I don't remember
When any of those
Goodnights
Changed
But they did-
And that's ok
Preparing to be a grandma has me thinking about those early days and years of motherhood. They change so fast.
We are looking forward to welcoming sweet Emilia June very soon! 💗
Simply Sunday
The Firsts
I have felt
The joy in
Celebrating
The firsts-
Smiles
Steps
Words
Birthdays
The one being
Celebrated
Too young
To remember
Yet, later seeing
Thru the eyes
Of those who
Were present
Knowing their
Foundation
Was built
In love-
Strange how
Those firsts
Continue
But change
After one is gone
A birthday
An anniversary
A holiday
Without them
The one being
Remembered
Not here, and yet
Our tears
And smiles
Confirmation
Of that same
Foundation
Still standing
This is our first Easter without Dad. Just me and Mom watching church online as my Uncle James preached from the church where he and my Aunt Martha serve in Massachusetts. It was quiet. The message was hopeful. And we are thankful. Happy Easter! 🕊
Freshly Sliced Strawberries
A regular guest
Always
Managing
To find his
Way back
To this place
Always
Managing
To keep his
Path hidden
From his host
Which was okay
Reservations were
Not accepted anyway-
The proprietor
Remaining
Ever ready
To welcome
His friend
However long
The space
Between visits
With freshly
Sliced strawberries
And a kind word-
A life lesson
For other guests
Young and old-
All creatures
No matter
Their stature
Deserve freshly
Sliced strawberries
I’m not sure how many years this turtle visited my parent’s backyard, but it was several. When our family visited, we would go outside to look for Buddy. On one particular occasion, there was some construction involved.
Our youngest son, Ryan, decided Buddy needed his own little resort. Ryan found a plastic container and gathered some rocks. After careful placement, he added water. And believe it or not, Buddy crawled right in!
Today, I am grateful for this sweet photo and memory.
