When atmospheric conditions
make it nearly impossible
to discern who is moving
And who is standing still
An out-of-balance feeling
quickly comes and goes
Offering no answers to
the resulting questions
Am I moving forward?
Am I standing still?
What about you?
Where are we headed?
I can’t feel the Earth moving
Yet, it is in constant motion
The clouds are floating
Yet, when layered just right
in front of the sun
It is the sun I see shifting
Do the answers matter?
Or simply the sense of wonder
which precedes the questions
Tag: questions
Grab Hands
My heart says rise above
Don’t be pulled down by
the weight of ugly words
and thoughtless actions
My head generates
logical responses
intended to make me
sound more intelligent
Where is the love in that?
Held back, pressed
down and further
down, tying me
to deep discontent
Where is the answer hiding?
Perhaps if I stop
thinking only of myself
and grab your hand
and we run through
a field so fast our feet
begin to hover
above the ground
before we fall into
the soft grass, laughing
and gaze at the clouds
Perhaps…
Simply Sunday
Which Question
After my arrival
Before my passing
How many seeds will I sew?
Whether scattered haphazardly
In knee-jerk reactions
To daily irritations or
Carefully sewn in love
With the intent to encourage
Both have the power to grow-
Seeds of frustration
Burrow deep
Expanding the crevices
In despairing hearts
Seeds of kindness
Take hold
Increasing hope
For healing hearts-
Truthfully, the results
Are not mine to know
Only my intent realized
Right before or right after
The seeds leave my hands-
After my arrival
Before my passing
What type of seeds will I sew?
I Don’t Know Why
Yesterday, the clouds
Made me cry-
At least, I think it was the clouds
They do easily lend
Themselves to tears -
I wonder why?
Is it the blues, whites, and grays
Layered like slatted blinds
Covering a picture window
Showing only tiny panes
Of the beauty resting
On the other side of the glass?
Or perhaps the power
Felt from a small patch
Of shade that cools
In the heat of the day?
I don't know why
But I think
It was the clouds
That made me cry
Yesterday
Who is She?
Some might say
She’s too bright
For her own good
Perhaps a bit bossy
Would take up
The whole sky
If she could-
But right away
I noticed her ability
To shine light through
The darkest of clouds
Providing pockets of joy
For anyone taking time
To look her way-
The last time I saw her
She coaxed me into
A giggly game of hide-n-seek
And I was happy for
The chance to play
I felt like a kid again
But then I had to
Get on with my day-
Hope we can visit again soon
Let me know if you see her around 😉
Where Is It?
In the morning mist
Rising from the ground
I can feel it
As sunlight clears
A green-grass path
It’s there
At midday bright
It hides behind
My squinting eyes
When day ends
And light fades
It graces the night sky
Can you feel it?
Do you see it?
Will you embrace it?
Particles may be small,
But the capacity for Wonder
Proves endless
Sunrise, Sunset
I wonder why
The hero is
Most often pictured
Riding into the sunset
Embraced
By the warmth
Of the deepest orange
Another day done
Ready for well-deserved rest…
Instead of riding
Toward the sunrise
Layered with colors
Bright and muted
Light calling
Through shadows
To the possibilities
Of a new day, imagined
But, not yet seen
I don’t have an answer.
I only wonder if
Perhaps the sunrise
Might shift focus
To the journey
Instead of the reward
Progress
How is it measured?
That depends
On the need
The event
The goal
The work
Where was the starting line?
That depends
On a memory
A realization
A decision
A step
Where is the finish line?
That depends
Each is different
Though more
Important than
The steps or the pace
Baby steps
Or giant leaps
The pace of a snail
Or a horse race
Not about comparison
But valuing the journey
It’s Okay
I’m okay
Pretty
Convincing
As long as
I’m the one
Asking the question
Moving along
Thru each day
And then
Another
Heart
Inquires
Are you doing okay?
I have asked
It of others
Sincerely
Seeking
The truth
So, even if
The response
Brings tears
As it currently
Does with me
Keep asking
Because it’s okay
To not be okay
And some days
The tears just
Need to fall
My mom and I were recently talking about the sadness and missing my dad. But also that we still have hope for tomorrow. She wisely said tears need to come out. ❤
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
Piano Girl 