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
Tag: sky
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
Fade to Blur
A beautiful blue design
On a soft white backdrop
Graced the morning sky-
Like a cherished dish
Whose intricate pattern has
Grown dull over time
From years spent
Holding tasty treats
Before being gently washed
Then carefully put away-
Though the design has faded to blur
The memories held
Remain clear and strong-
It may seem impossible
After so much time has passed
But certain recollections
Plant themselves deeply-
Like visiting Grandma
For a cup of coffee and a piece
Of her chocolate cake
Baked with a secret ingredient
What was that secret ingredient?
Well, that’s my memory
Smiling Blue
A lovely patch of blue
Smiles from behind
Stormy gray swirls–
Its presence like that
Of a trusted friend
Their hand resting
On my shoulder
Offering calm assurance
And a wise reminder-
There are always storms
Out in front, left behind,
Or directly overhead –
But the rain travels
From head to heart
Washing away stormy grays
To reveal the lovely
Patch of blue
Residing inside of you
Piano Girl 