Tag: Sunday

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl2 Comments

Morning Streets

On our way
To a coffee shop
Little girl
Laughing
Running
Down the sidewalk
Her little dog
Running alongside
Dad and brother
Close behind
Their destination
An interactive
Statue standing
On the corner
An airplane
With a propellor
Inviting them to spin
Pick us up, Daddy!
Each had their turn
That was so much fun!
They kept walking
I noticed dad’s shirt
It was torn and tattered
They were smiling
I wonder what will be
Their next destination

Driving past
A group of people
Who have no home-
Only make-shift
Shelters made
From cardboard
And blankets
All their belongings
Carefully placed
In large trash bags
Or worn out
Duffle bags
A few smiled
Most looked tired
A kind of tired
I do not know
One crawled
Helplessly
Along the sidewalk-
What are their stories?
I can only guess
And guessing
Is not sufficient-
Who will share their narratives?

I wrote these two poems during our summer trip to Colorado. Our overnight stop was in a typical city, like many other cities in this country. Good restaurants and coffee shops, local charm. Also, like in other cities, many individuals are homeless.

I do not pretend to understand or have answers, but I could not look away. Nor keep from sharing.

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl2 Comments

Baby Steps

Your tiny forehead
Tilted to one side
Quizzically
Looking my way

I think I like you?

Tiny strategic moves
On my part
Required
To bring us closer

Do you want to play?

Magic of sunglasses
Tiny red flowers
Silly iridescent mirrors
Yours vs. mine

I see your eyes quietly smiling…

Your tiny forehead
Leaning toward mine
Briefly touching
Before leaning back

Oh yes, I think I like you!

Won’t You Be My Neighbor? by Fred Rogers Kelley Morris, piano

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl3 Comments

45 rpm

Seven-inch
Vinyl disc
Placed on
A circle
Within
A magic box
Turn the knob
Watch it spin
Forty-five
Rotations
Per minute
Place the needle
Listen as it
Moves across
The ridges
Releasing
Its power
Releasing
The music

I saw the movie Elvis yesterday with my friend, Marina. I grew up listening to Elvis. Watched his concerts on television. Remember the breaking news on the day he died.

I also remember dancing around a record player with my cousins at grandma’s house. Hound Dog and Don’t Be Cruel were our choice of 45s. We all loved Elvis.

Elvis had a style all his own, and it was controversial. People either loved him or hated him. But his roots were honest and truthful. And his contributions to our nation’s musical heritage are of great value. I am thankful his 45s were part of my childhood.

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl6 Comments

Conversation Continued…

Part one here. 💛 Conversation in the Sun

Thank you for
The encouragement
Didn’t think
Anyone had
Noticed-starting
To feel a bit
Better

Oh! I’m so glad!
Your color is
Returning
Along with your
Strength

I do have one concern…

Yes?

If I stand any taller
You will be out of my view
And you’ve helped me so much

That’s ok. You will know
That I am here
That my face
Is being warmed
By the same sun as yours
And I will be able
To see your gentle waves
Floating on the breeze
And know you are
Waving at me

The distance between two hearts cannot steal the hope they share.

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl4 Comments

Do We Truly See?

Today feels
Anything
But simple
It feels torn
I feel torn
Sunshine skies
In front of me
Clear and blue
A stark contrast
To the images
Of gray skies
Streets filled with
Ash and rubble
Seen on the news-
My mind knows
And history tells us
Not all people
Are free or safe
From the exploits
Of evil men
Yet, my heart
Is unable
To reconcile-
An image of
A Ukrainian mom
Her only thought
Protecting her family
From surrounding
Destruction and death…
I cannot know
The heaviness
Of her heart
Yet, I must not look away
Watching
Praying
For a glimmer of hope
A family reunited
While never
Forgetting
Images snapped
By cameras-
Images of death
And innocence stolen
For all the world to see-
Do we truly see?

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl4 Comments

Simplest of Joys

Every day, I drive past a field
A house and barn on one side
Two horses roaming
Rolling hills behind tree lines
It seems so simple
The roots of joy flowing from this place
On certain days
Days when the resident family of deer is grazing
Often in the early morning, I spot them
Spread-out, enjoying a quiet breakfast
Often in the afternoon, I spot them
Playing on the hills behind the trees
I always want to stop and snap a picture
But there’s never time or space for that-
Other cars and such-
I feel sad on the days when I can’t spot
My little family of deer

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl2 Comments

With Hope

I stare into the dancing flames
Reds, yellows, oranges
Rising from the dry wood
Shifting on the ground

Fanning the playful flames
I warm my cold hands
Not too close-flames that warm
May also burn

Extinguishing the dying flames-
Water mixing with fire
I stare at the rising steam
The blackened wood

Leaving behind the cold
Leaving behind my worries
I walk with hope
Into the light of a new day

Renewal

I watch you
Intricately
Designed
Miniature
Works of art
No one like
The other
Dancing
Across the sky
Making your way
To the ground
To a tree branch
To the tip of my nose
I watch you
Eagerly wishing
Your numbers
Would grow
And blanket the earth
In hopeful renewal
Fall, little snowflakes, fall

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl7 Comments

Old Word Hope

I did not choose a word for the year. One chose me.

I had never heard of this word until yesterday. Not a surprise since it was last used in the 16th century. As I read its definition, it seemed like the perfect choice.

Before I share my word, you need to know its antonym.

Despair-the complete loss or absence of hope.

Though I have felt sadness and grief, I can’t say I have experienced despair. I have witnessed hopelessness. It is not difficult to find. So many challenges over the past couple of years. Such is this life we live.

No more suspense. My word for the year is…

Respair-fresh hope, or recovery from despair.

I am glad it found me! Now to try using it in a sentence. 😉

Here’s to respair in 2022! 🕊