A little patch of pale blue
Whispered my name
After the storm.
Rain had fallen
So hard, the sky was
No longer visible.
I could barely see
The road in front of me.
My shoulders tensed.
My chest tightened.
My heart grew heavy.
As the storm passed,
My body relaxed, tired.
But the heaviness
In my heart remained.
Even the little patch of blue
Couldn’t lighten the weight.
But that’s okay.
That wasn’t its purpose.
The little patch of blue
Whispered my name to
Shift my gaze and remind me-
Look for the good.
Trust that the storm will pass.
Tag: sky
Considering Blue
Have you considered
how many shades of blue
grace the sky in a single day?
Some are so deep and mysterious,
my eyes can hardly look away.
Reminds me of the truth
that there is always
another storm somewhere
in the distance.
And then there is a blue
so soft and pale, it must be
the reflection of a blanket
gently wrapped around
a brand new baby.
I can’t forget the bright
patches of clear-sky-blue.
Like pages from a storybook,
transporting me to childhood memories
of running and playing outside.
I’m beginning to understand
why blue is my favorite color.
Lingering Light
A heart-shaped cloud
Usually prompts a smile
But not that day-
That day, the cloud was gray-
A symbol of grief
A reflection of the hurt
Many suffer, often in silence-
The sky was silent, too
Unlike recent days of rain,
Thunder, and lightning-
As if now holding
Its breath while
The grieving heart
Cautiously passed by
Light remained-
Not bright, but soft and warm-
Like a lamp lit
In the corner of a room
Quietly lingering
Offering comfort
Holding space for healing
Before Sunset
We took a walk
That time of the afternoon
When it feels like
The minutes pass by
A bit slower
A time when weeds
Serve as flowers
For little hands
To pick and share-
Your tiny feet
Moved ahead of mine
Far enough to bring
A tinge of nervousness-Until
I recognized the feathery
Wings of an angel
In the wispy clouds
Gracefully floating across the Blue-
A protector of our path
A guardian for my heart
As we turned around
And walked side by side
The path leading back home
Approaching Storm
Dark clouds rolled in
The face of a grizzly bear
Leading the charge
Angrily spreading darkness
Over half of the whole sky-
The other half was
Partly covered with clouds
Leaving space enough for
A few patches of clear blue
Space enough for
A peak or two of sunlight-
Perhaps it was the sunlit blue
That calmed the angry grizzly
Reminding him of days
Spent fishing in clear waters-
I can’t be sure
But where the two halves of the sky met
Darkness and fear dissipated
And the rain began to fall
As thunder gently rolled away
Far off into the distance
Just For You and Me
Do you ever feel like the clouds
Are moving across the sky
Just for you?
A chance at amazement
An opportunity for imagination
Do you ever think the morning birds
Are singing their sweet melody
Just for you?
I’m certain I heard a song
Meant just for me
The other morning-
Floating clouds, singing birds
Pulling me away from outside worries
Into their world –
A place of safety between my thoughts
And all the noise around me-
A place not easily seen, but felt
In the same breeze that carries the clouds
And the bird’s song right into
The middle of my soul
I wrote the above poem in a recent writing circle. Another one of those sweet, safe places. 🩷 A huge thank you to Ali Grimshaw for facilitating.
Unobstructed
Sturdy, beautifully faded red barn
Surrounded by rolling hills of green grass
Graceful greens rolling into perfect blues
Placid blue sky dotted with fluffy white-
A beautiful scene laid out in front of me-
Postcard perfect, though,
Any photo I might take would surely
Contain unwanted obstructions –
So, I drove home, disappointed,
With only the picture in my head-
Perhaps I was searching for perfection-
What if I changed my attitude
And the direction of my gaze?
Instead of upward, maybe outward,
Downward or possibly inward?
No matter the direction
There will always be obstructions-
But new perspectives often bring
Surprisingly unexpected views
Simply Sunday
The warmest of oranges
Disappears into the deepest,
Darkest of Blues –
Perfect backdrop
For a display of
Silhouetted trees-
Their true colors
Temporarily invisible
Yet, they stand tall
As details of their searching
Rewards from their reaching
Are etched into this brief
Window of time-
A reminder that each day
Will come to an end
But on the best of days,
A lingering gratitude
Like glowing coals
From a dying campfire
Holds enough affection
To warm my hands
Leave me with rosy cheeks
All the while, melting my heart
Observations
New every morning
Ready and waiting to greet us-
One day, a gracefully
Blended watercolor
The next, child-like
Sponge-painted clouds
On bright blue
Construction paper-
Certain summer afternoons
Perfectly uniform shapes
Stenciled onto an
Azure backdrop-
And on not-so-happy days
A blank gray slate
Hovering in agreement
With the tears below-
Only a few from
An infinite list-
Simple descriptions
Of the sky above-
Once seen, never
To be seen again
Except in memory
If we remember
It is new every morning
Ready and waiting to greet us
Hoping for a greeting in return
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
Lamentations 3:22-23 NIV
Muted Colors
If only I could grasp
A corner of the sky
Between my fingertips
And carefully peel it back
Like removing
The protective covering
From a brand-new mirror
So that the fuzzy images
Suddenly become clear-
If only I could grasp
A corner of the sky
Between my fingertips
And carefully peel it back
Perhaps the colors of Fall
Would no longer appear muted
Their transformation revealing
Deep reds and golden yellows-
I cannot peel back
A corner of the sky
But I can remember
This is only a season
And in certain seasons
Peace for an anxious heart
Quietly lingers within
The softly muted colors
Piano Girl 