Cleaning out
Throwing away
Rearranging the old
With the new –
Changes in my
Surroundings
Open doors to more
Than simply a room-
New perspectives
For eyes and heart–
On this day, the view
From where I sit
Warrants only gratitude
Simply Sunday
Tag: Sunday
Simply Sunday
Oh, Bother
It’s not the getting older
That bothers me
Yes, I often wish
My body felt less stiff
My joints were less achy
But it’s not the getting older
That bothers me
Aging is a natural progression–
I’m beginning to understand
What bothers me-
It is the time passed
Compared to the probability
Of the time remaining
Life’s great happiness is to be convinced that we are loved. Les Miserables, Victor Hugo
Simply Sunday
You gave me a wide place for my steps under me,
and my feet did not slip.
—
2 Samuel 27:37
COUNTING STEPS
It begins with
The very first ones
Celebrating
As little legs
Move faster
Go farther
Grow stronger
But do I continue
Counting only for
The sake of numbers
Or contemplate
The imprints
Left behind-
There is a choice
Adjust my steps
Gentle to firm
Hasty to calm
Dependent on
Current conditions
Guided by love
Or tromp thru
Each new season
Unaware of anyone
Or anything but me
Leaving no benefit
For those following
Or walking alongside-
Accepting my steps are numbered
Making sure each one counts
Simply Sunday
Serving Security
Nothing fancy
No gourmet recipe
This batch was not
As fluffy as I’d
Have preferred
Then again, I haven’t
Made them in
Quite some time
Still, there’s something
Sweet in the making
And in the sharing
A Saturday morning
Family tradition
For many years
Before I even realized
It was a tradition
But the kids knew
They sensed security
In such a simple thing
And for that
I am grateful-
This batch may not
Have been my best
Let’s face it, it wasn’t
But my little granddaughter
Ate them up just like
Her dad, her aunt,
And her uncle used to do
Simply Sunday
A sacred space
Exists between
Birth and death
No matter the
Length of time
It is so much
More than time
Influenced by
Persons
Places
Choices
Everyone
Experiencing it
Differently-
We embrace it
Hide from it
Run away from it
But it finds us
And sometimes
Miraculously
Surprise us
Simply Sunday
It is difficult
To remember
The me who
Once was seven
Do you find the same to be true?
Oh, there are glimpses
Flashes of childhood
Aided by photographs
And the reciting
Of stories at
Family gatherings-
I believe at seven
Happy outweighed sad
And freedom came
When swinging way up high
High enough to touch the sky
Then bravely jumping out
It is difficult
To remember
The me who
Once was seven
But I am grateful
For her spirit
Continuing
To reside in me
Even when I’m afraid
To jump out of the swing
Simply Sunday
I decided to look back a year and see what I posted. Decided to share it again today with a new pic. I love the flowers of Spring and the hope that accompanies them. 💛🌼
Conversation in the Sun
One lonely
Bloom
Fighting
To stand up
Underneath
The weight
Of recent winds
And rain
A tiny speck
In the vastness
Of this world
Has anyone noticed?
Bent so low
Only able to
See my shadow
On the ground
As the sun
Shines above
Hey! Over here!
Bend your ear
My way
It seems you have
Grown weak under
The pressures of
Life in this garden
Don’t lose hope
Rest, recharge
Together
Our roots will
Grow stronger
And you will
Once again
Stand up tall
Your face
Soaking up
The sun’s rays
Simply Sunday
Quiet, Not Empty
The house is quiet
I’ve felt versions
Of this quiet before-
A missing laughter
From the next room
Absent sounds of one
Coming and going
Or the rattling of a
Bucket of Legos-
Yes, it is quiet
But it is not empty
The space holds
Memories from
All that occurred
Along this path
Of parenthood
Love and laughter
Heartache and tears
So much hope and joy
Perhaps more than
These walls are
Able to bear
But that’s ok
My heart is more than willing
To share in the holding
Simply Sunday
Holding
My breath
Muscles tense
Heart racing
Afraid to move-
You take my hand
It’s ok-breathe
I feel my lungs
Expand
Deep breath
Fresh air
Relaxing
In your care
Unable to
Completely
Close off
My heart
As we
Breathe
In time
Together
Simply Sunday
I am learning
There are many ways
To express my grief
Tears, laughter
Listening
Remembering
But also through words
Not always sad
Many times sweet
No matter which way
I choose in any
Given moment
The healing happens
In the expressing
Transformation
Simple recipe
Words on a card
Pat of butter
Two cups of flour
Ice cold water
The comforting smell
Of pie crust baking
Warm milk
Cocoa powder
Sugar, of course
Touch of vanilla
Continuous stirring
Required
For perfectly
Smooth filling
I can almost
Taste it now-
Watching my sweet Dad
Wearing his apron on
Thanksgiving morning
Remembering
With gratefulness
His smile
As I tasted
The leftover filling-
The simplest of
Ingredients
Transformed
Into so much joy
Yesterday’s poetry circle with Ali Grimshaw https://flashlightbatteries.blog/ was a precious gift. I am grateful for both the words I wrote and the ones I was blessed to hear. ❤️
Piano Girl 