Following
The line
In search of
Sustenance
We entered
Honey Honey Cafe
Constant hum
Of workers
Buzzing
Behind
The counter
May I help you?
Yes, I
Would like
Pancakes
With
Strawberries
Words stuck
Between
My ears
Sluggish
Exiting my mouth
Excuse me?
Pancakes
And
Strawberries
We sit quietly
In the center
Of this hive
Observers
Partakers
Gathering
Sweet fuel
Before following
The line back
Out the door
Into the city
Gentle ferns
Brightest green
Soft clover
Delicate
White lines
A perfect carpet
For majestic
Residents
Red trunks
Growing
Standing
For hundreds
Of years
Though roots
Are shallow
Strength comes
When each
Intertwines
With the next
Building
A foundation
Stretching
From carpeted floor
Rising
Thru drifting fog
Reaching
Toward the sun-
Enter quietly
Muir Woods National Monument Mill Valley, CA 💚
Imagining
Rolling hills
Once covered
In grass and dirt
Graced
With trees
And fields
As far as
One could see
Now paved
Rolling hills
City streets
Perfectly lined
With building
After building
Architectures
New and old
Juxtaposed
To create
An endless
Visual puzzle
Architectures
As varied
As the languages
I hear while
Waiting in a line
For breakfast
City of diversity
In every sense
I’m captivated
And caught
Between
Wonder
And Grief
Marveling at
All that surrounds
While walking
Down sidewalks
So many call home
Notes
Rests
Sound
Silence
Working
Together
To make music
Pleasing
Not only
To the ears
But also
Body, mind, soul
And yet,
One key
Element
Is often
An afterthought-
Silence
If not
Savored
Disappears
Transposing
Sweet melody
To mere noise
Leaving
No time
To breathe
No time
To sing
Cool summer morning
Pleasant surprise
Family of birds
Playing happily
In a nearby tree
Begins to circle
The sky in flight
Darting up
Dashing down
Dancing together
Like children
In a game of
Ring around the Rosie
Upon their return
To the safety
Of familiar branches
The welcoming tree
Like a wise grandmother
Rocking on the porch
Shakes with laughter
At their homecoming
Knowing they will not
Live with her forever
Especially
The young ones
For soon, they will
Find their own mates
Build their own nests
Perhaps in
A nearby tree
Perhaps not
For now, she accepts
The importance
Of protecting
While preparing
For the day
They fly away
Hopefully
Another lovely
Pleasant surprise
Cool summer morning
A simple
Solitary
Seed
Of doubt
Sewing stitches
Choking roots
Once confident
Threatening
Downward
Spiral
Second-guessing
Simplest decisions
Sense of dread
Starting
In the brain
Slowly shifts
Stomach
Tied in knots
Realization
Anxiety has
Once again
Crept in
Recognizing
Is step one
Clipping stitches
Step two
Freeing roots
To stretch
And grow
Crushing
The doubt
Regaining
Confidence
Whether the tiniest reason or no reason at all, anxiety just shows up some days. Sharing helps. You never know who may be able to relate. Be encouraged. ❤️
I can feel it
In my bones
Sense it
Slowly
Approaching
Though still
Far away
Tensions
Being to rise
Along with
The growing
Bank of darkness
What to do?
Not a matter
Of if but when
It will arrive
Do I make
Preparations
For something
Over which
I have no control
Or do I sit still
Breathing
Watching
Praying
Welcoming
With open arms
Lessons sure
To be left behind
Once the storm passes
No memories
Of my own
With which
To compare
Only descriptions
Heard in
Favorite songs
Until now…
Driving thru
Stockbridge
Lennox, Lee
Witnessing
The greens
Shining
Dreamlike
In the Berkshires
Quaint towns
Connected by
Winding roads
Surrounded by
Rolling hills
Under blue skies
And moonlight-
Each one holding
Its own history
Of joy and pain
Both personal
And collective-
Places once alive
Only in songs
Now alive anew
As music and
Snapshots are
Forever forged
In my mind
A raindrop
Landed on
My windshield
With a bounce
Becoming one
Small bubble
In its own space
Until another
And another
And another
Came along
To invade-
Soon the glass
Was covered in
Raindrop bubbles-
The tempo
Of the car
The tempo
Of the rain
Increased-
Gravity said
Rain falls down
From the sky
But the droplets
Seemed to be
Traveling
The wrong
Direction
Rows and rows
Of raindrops
Flowing up
My windshield-
Optical illusion?
Possibly
Vivid imagination?
Could be
Or perhaps simply
Nature’s music
Ever-changing
With the rhythm
Of this life
Although I am their music teacher, many of my students are aware I write poetry. Last year, fourth graders had a unit on poetry. I shared some of my poems with their teachers to use however they liked. The connections that occurred were precious.
Students began to ask about my book that was being published. Wanting to know if they would be able to buy it at the book fair. 😉 I assured them there would be copies in the library to check out. They were so excited! I would give each of them a copy if I could.
One day after school, a fourth-grade girl handed me a stack of small notepaper. She had been writing poems and wanted to share! Another day in music, one of her classmates, a boy, shyly handed me a folded piece of paper. “Here are some poems I wrote.” He quickly walked away.
Over the following weeks, I had several conversations with these two young poets. They eagerly shared their writing, and I happily celebrated them.
One of the students traveled to Mexico before the school year ended. I hope she will return next year. The other is transferring to a new school. Brief but powerful connections for me, and I hope for them.
I asked permission to share one of the poems. This young man is confidently referring to himself as a poet now. No more hiding. It is a beautiful thing.
green is for happiness
which means that
trees have happiness
within the leaves
another green that gives
good vibes is grass
that swerves with the breeze
I don’t know about you, but I was impressed! I am going to miss this young man next year. I hope he keeps writing.
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Piano Girl 