Thinking in terms
Of my life story
At this moment
Feels a bit
Daunting
Contemplating
What I know
And wish I knew
About my own
Grandmothers
Naturally shifts
My perspective
So much more
They could have
Would have said
Given more time
Asked more questions-
Motivation to
Open the book
Begin writing
One word
One sentence
One memory
One song
At a time
Happy New Year! I was so grateful for the opportunity to begin my day yesterday in a poetry circle. Thank you, Ali. ❤️https://flashlightbatteries.blog/
Time for listening, writing, and reflecting. Time to look back before looking ahead.
Is there always room to grow?
It is easy to remain
Stationary
Standing firm on
This one thought
I am right where I’m supposed to be
Even if one leg
Feels wobbly
And my tears
Are enough to
Fill buckets-
But tears can
Clear a path
And dumping over
Those buckets
Washes away fears
Leaving my feet
Free to move
Toward something
New and different
Yet, also familiar
There is always room to grow
The view outside
My window
Can be deceiving
Glass is clear
Giving a false
Impression of
Connectedness-
Yes, I can see
The sun shining
Its brightest yellow
The sky painted
A perfect baby blue-
Yes, I can see
But I cannot feel
The barbs dodged
By neighbors
As they walk
Across their yards
Or the biting wind
Reminding them
Of unknown loss-
Perhaps I should
Open the door
Look through my own eyes
Stop simply taking in the view
Place me in the picture
Changing the scenery
While being changed
What a perfect beginning to this Thanksgiving week-a writing circle hosted by Ali Grimshaw. https://flashlightbatteries.blog/. I was reminded once again of the importance of gratitude. Happy Monday! ❤
What have I given of myself today?
Was it more
Than a thought
Or a simple prayer
Did my focus
Remain inward
Or did I take time
To see you coming
Slowly walking
In my direction
Wondering how
I might respond
Or if I would
Offer a smile-
Fairly certain
I received one
For it left a hint
Of happiness
As you passed by
More precious
Than any present
I could have received
What have I given of myself today?
Our hands reveal
So much about
The lives we live
My dad’s hands
Are rough and strong
Calloused from years
Of carpentry
My mom’s hands
Are softer
Her work required
A different touch
And yet, time
Is reflected in both-
I notice changes
In my own hands
Spots on my skin
Aches in my fingers
While thinking about
Hands I have held
Some briefly
Others lingering-
But then you
Held my hand
A lasting touch
That began at
The tips of my fingers
And worked its way
Into the depths of my heart
My job was to stir
Sounds simple
A wooden spoon
Round and round
But I remember
Heat rising from
The slow-to-boil
Sweetness
My dad was always
Nearby, of course
In case little hands
Became tired
It only took
Helping one time
For the tasty
Result to be
Permanently
Etched in my soul-
How is it that
Precious details
Are so easily
Forgotten-
Eating the remaining
Warm chocolaty filling
Out of tiny glass bowls
Once my dad filled
His homemade pie crusts-
May my memory
Of a yesterday
Erase any complaints
From today
Hard to believe
I ever spent time
Digging
In the dirt
But I remember…
So much fun
Imaginations
Running wild
In the dirt
Seems silly now
The things once
Thought possible
In a little girl’s plans…
Sometimes the dirt
Was not forgiving
Washing it away
Required extra
Scrubbing-But, oh
The sweet smell
Of playing
In the dirt
Right before
The rain
Perhaps, it is time
To get my hands dirty
Do a little more
Digging
Wake that old
Imagination
From its dirt-free
Slumber and not
Worry so much
About looking clean
I continue to be amazed and grateful for the connections created through poetry circles facilitated by Ali Grimshaw. ❤️ https://flashlightbatteries.blog/
Cool night air
Gently swaying
All that moves
Black night sky
Holding lights of
Varying brightness
A planet sits just
Above the horizon
Yet, millions of miles away
Encircled by its moons
I can see it
Thru the lens
Of a telescope-
Stand still
Hold your breath
It will soon be
Out of view
For my blogger friend, Karla. 💛 https://flannelwithfaith.com/
Magic
In a tiny
Cardboard disc
Cutout windows
Evenly spaced
Around its edges
Each one holding
Transparent film
Unclear images
Until said disc
Is carefully placed
In the slot on top
Of the viewfinder-
Eyes glued
To the lenses
Held up to the light
And a whole new
Word emerges
Click the side button
To continue the journey
Image after image
Sharing a story
Worth telling-
We all have a story
Worth telling
Our very own
Cardboard disc
Filled with
Windows
To the soul
Sharing another poetry circle poem. Thankful for opportunities and connections. ❤️
Where am I?
Sitting here
With my feet
Firmly planted
On the floor
Well, that is
The obvious answer
But what about
Those answers
That won’t come
So easily
Answers that lead
Down a path
Holding only
More questions-
How is it a single detour
On today’s path
Can feel like a failure
Sucking the air from
All the colorful balloons
Filled throughout the day
Rising to the top
Leaving behind
Contented smiles-
If only I could
Erase the sound
Of the needle
Popping the one balloon
Not released with joy-
Maybe tomorrow…
This morning
I noticed sunlight
Finding its way
Thru layers
Of clouds-
Some clouds
Seemed to bask
In the light
Almost disappearing
While others remained
Dark and gloomy
Allowing only
A few rays
To lightly lay
Across their gray-
Oh, to be the cloud
Completely open
To the sun’s warmth
Boring a hole
Right thru its center
Confident it is now
Ready to face
Whatever storm
May lie ahead
I continue to be encouraged by and grateful for the writing circle. ❤️ If you are interested, check out https://flashlightbatteries.blog/
Days when
Words try to
Stay hidden
In the deep
Crevices
Of my mind
No one else
May enter
Unless invited
I attempt to
Pry them out
Giving voice
To the feelings
Held behind
The words
While knowing
That sharing
The positives
Will prove easier
Than sharing
The negatives
Days when
Words try to
Stay hidden
I am learning
And re-learning
To write them down
Inviting light
To gently restore
The fractures
While easing my fears
Sharing two poems today that I wrote in a recent poetry circle with Ali Grimshaw. If this is something you’ve considered participating in, check out her website. I continue to be amazed at the process and thankful for the connections. ❤️ https://flashlightbatteries.blog/
The same door
Same hallway
Same faces, mostly
Day in, day out
Oh, it’s a fine door
Bright hallway
Smiling faces, mostly
What would happen if I changed my entrance?
No, not a different door
Just held this door
For someone else
Walked that hallway
With intention
Bravely met all
Those faces
Not just with a smile
But with me
Whatever me happens
To show up that day-
Honest, unafraid
My heart open
Ready to receive
Ready to be received
Thought I was walking
Down a new path
Confident change
Was preparing
To peak out from
Around the corner
At any minute
Any corner…
Any day now…
But it remained
Hidden-not ready
To show its face
Maybe I had been
Walking around
In a circle
Seems I am back
Where I started
Or perhaps
That magnetic
Starting line
Loosened its grip
Just a bit
Before gently
Pulling me back
Tugging at my heart
Allowing time to grasp
A new perspective-
After all, life’s
Biggest changes
Are often felt, not seen
Piano Girl 