Simply Sunday

Simplest of Joys

Every day, I drive past a field
A house and barn on one side
Two horses roaming
Rolling hills behind tree lines
It seems so simple
The roots of joy flowing from this place
On certain days
Days when the resident family of deer is grazing
Often in the early morning, I spot them
Spread-out, enjoying a quiet breakfast
Often in the afternoon, I spot them
Playing on the hills behind the trees
I always want to stop and snap a picture
But there’s never time or space for that-
Other cars and such-
I feel sad on the days when I can’t spot
My little family of deer

Best-Laid Plans

Dominoes
Carefully
Lined up
Waiting patiently
Their rhythmic fall
Will soon begin
One onto the next
Onto the next

Dominoes
Carefully
Lined up
Impatient
Some hopping
Out of line
Causing gaps
Heavy sighs

Dominoes
Neatly stacked
Back inside
Their box
Resting quietly
Until the box opens
Revealing tomorrow’s
Best-laid plans

Due to President’s Day and icy weather, we only had one day of in-person school last week. It was not my best teaching day. Also, not my worst, but…Whew! I went home exhausted and a teeny bit irritable.

The struggles started with step one. Some I was able to fix, others I was not. No need to name them. That would only serve to re-ignite feelings of frustration.

That is teaching. That is life. No matter our plans. Rarely do all the dominoes fall in perfect order. And truthfully, that should not be the goal.

Here’s to a new week, new plans, and renewed purpose. And hopefully, a bit more patience.

Morning News

I sit quietly
In my house
This morning
Drinking hot tea
Watching the morning news
Never having experienced the kind of fear
That would cause me to flee my home
Searching for a place of safety
A shelter under the ground
Where explosions above
That will destroy my home
And those of my friends and family
Cannot reach my children
I don’t know that kind of fear
Not fear of natural disasters
Unavoidable depending on location
But fear of weapons
Created by man
Neighbor against neighbor
Strong overtaking weak
Seeking what?
Power and greed
Seem the most common answers-
I sit quietly
In my house
This morning
Unable to erase the image
Of a precious little girl
On the morning news
Her big eyes filled with tears
Hiding underground
Unable to block
The sounds of bombs
Exploding on the surface
Perhaps I should not try
To erase her image
Instead, let it sear into my memory
Reminding me to pray for light
To find her in that dark place

Once Again

I see the notes
Gracefully strung
Across the staff
My hands
Gently fall
Onto the keys
Music drifts
Thru the air
Is this progression always the same?
So many things to consider
Things that may
Cause my eyes to fall
Leave my hands to drift
The music silenced
Tucked away
On its pages
Waiting patiently
For its turn
Once again
To speak
Drift thru the air
And keep me
From falling

I have been participating in writing circles with Ali Grimshaw https://flashlightbatteries.blog/ for almost two years now. Each experience reminds me that distance is not a determiner of meaningful connections. Ali provides a safe space for writing and sharing. Always with a reminder to send my critical voice to the other room.

I wrote the above poem in last night’s circle. ❤️

Living and Dying

We only spoke on a few occasions. Short conversations, but a bit below the surface. You knew you were dying. Cancer was taking your body, but not your spirit. One day at a time, you’d smile. And your sweet husband would smile with you.

Your peaceful presence was drawing. And your dress was sassy, full of personality. I would like to have talked more. But your days were short, and interrupting family time didn’t seem appropriate.

There was one opportunity for an extended conversation. I discovered you both were retired teachers. Smiled listening to your stories. Gratefully accepted your encouragement as a teacher.

That evening was the last time we spoke. Sounds like you held on as long as you could.

You are no longer suffering. For that, I am thankful. But selfishly, I wish we’d had the chance to become friends.

We rarely know when
One conversation
Will be our last
And even if
We have an inkling
I expect our hearts
Won’t entertain until
We know for certain

What Was I?

A calm voice
Soothes the heart
Like a quiet breeze
Soothes the rose

A harsh voice
Stirs up conflict
Like a strong wind
Stirs up dust

What was I today?

The boisterous wind
Leaving friends
And strangers alike
With dirt in their eyes?

The gentle breeze
Leaving nothing behind
But the faint memory
Of a well-timed smile?

What will I be tomorrow?

The Oklahoma winds are strong this week. A chance of storms in our forecast. The last two afternoons, outside car duty, have left me with dirt in my eyes. That unpleasantness caused me to think of how I react in certain situations. I have a choice to be calm or stormy. Tomorrow, may I lean more toward the first.

Sleeping

In the quiet
Of the morning
Stoically
Standing
Seeking no attention
Trees line its ridge
Bare, unmoving
No colors
To catch my eye
And yet, I stop
And stare
As it sleeps-
I imagine its base
Collecting warmth
From the sun’s rays
Storing the energy
Soon required for waking
Pushing flowers up
Thru the forest floor
Opening patient buds
On the trees
Crying out-
Spring is here!
But not today
Today, the mountain sleeps
And I watch
Grateful
For its presence

Pinnacle Mountain State Park

On recent visits to my parents, one-stop has become routine on my way out of town. A perfect spot for a photograph of Pinnacle Mountain. Each time shows a different aspect of the current season. And while I love the colors of Spring and Fall, the above Winter view was beautiful in its own right. It reminded me of our need for rest, renewal, and the approaching Spring.

Morning Drive

The deluge
Was instantaneous
No drops of rain
Marking dry pavement
In individual circles
With their warning-
Here we come!
No, a flood
Soaking me
From head to toe
Leaving me
Floating
On my back
Waiting for the sun
To dry my skin
As it teaches my heart-
Emotions may arrive in a flood
But the memories
They are drawn from
Remain in the warmth
Of the sunshine
On my face

Why is it always during morning drives? It happened just yesterday. Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. One single thought-Boy, I’m missing the kids.

The missing quickly changed to remembering. Remembering followed by looking forward to upcoming visits.

I know I’ve said it before. But that’s how it goes when you’re the parent of adult children. Today, I’m thankful for texts and phone calls. ❤️

The Invitation

The snow fell
Light and fluffy
Gusty winds
Caused confusion
As to how much
But the snow fell
White and bright
On the ground
It called my name
In the morning
Here I am!
It called again
At mid-day
Still waiting!
It tried one more time
Daylight is fading
You’d better hurry
–
Cautious steps
Bended knees
Body outstretched
On the ground
Giggling like a child
Answering the invitation
To be wrapped up
In a moment
Of pure joy

The snow finally came. And yes, I made my snow angel. Gone are the days of playing in the snow until our hands and feet are frozen. These days, I enjoy its beauty from the warm inside. But I could not let this snow pass without making that snow angel. I’m so glad I listened to my heart. And that my husband was there to help me up off the ground!

Guess who? ❄️

Waiting for Snow

White sky
Whooshing wind
Bare trees
I sit inside
And wait
Certain I’m not
The only one
Waiting…
For the scene
To turn upside down
Or is it right-side up?
Waiting…
For the white sky
To release its weight
And fall, fall, fall
To the ground below
Welcoming the waiting
Into its cold
Yet, joyful
Embrace
Begging us
To stay and play
Until…
Our toes are cold
Hands are frozen
Cheeks are rosy
Until…
The warmth
Beckons us
Back inside
Until…
Our cold toes
Frozen hands
Rosy cheeks
Thaw from the outside in
Or is it from the inside out?