No one ever told me.
Or maybe I just didn’t hear.
No one ever held me.
Or maybe I just didn’t feel.
But no, that’s not true, I did feel, but I felt inside,
Away from the words and touches.
Can you open the door and see that?
Are you strong enough for the truth?
Am I?
The well is dry,
My heart is empty,
The cycle is complete.
Nothing left to do but begin again and fill the well,
Stoke the fires of my soul, and
Let its smoke rise and season my heart.
My heart is well seasoned as this is not its first round.
Time and time again it has been smoked with sorrow.
So, it will either become soft and sweet from the fragrant wood chips
Or hard and tough from the endless heat.
The choice is mine, but am I strong enough to make the right choice?
Only time will tell…
I am getting older; the days seem shorter,
But more beautiful with each passing year.
I am filled with gratitude as my time here draws nearer to the end
and I am able to take the time I need to look around and really see and appreciate this life.
Who knew it would all go by so quickly…
I want to spend the rest of my time loving and living every moment to the fullest
In truth and joy.
And with truth comes power. Power to see things as they really are.
Power to be who I really am, finally.
My growing love and appreciation of life accentuates the beauty in the ordinary
Making everything extraordinary in its own way.
I now see clearly the beauty and magic in the color of sweet potatoes, a robin’s spring song at dawn, spring peepers serenading each other,
The smell of freshly mown hay, the light in a baby’s eyes, and
The sound of my lover’s heart beat in my soul.
There is a smoothness and subtle grace in every action I take, not because I bring it, but because it already exists everywhere if you just take the time to see it.
I have no more room for lies and no time to waste.
There is only now and now,
Beautiful now.
My life is contained in a shoe-box beneath my bed,
At the bottom of a green glass vase of pennies, or maybe
In the prayer flags hung over my mirror holding the cut-out owl Karen made for me.
My soul is contained and content in a mildewed pod growing in the land of wind and chi.
My future and hopes lie waiting in my pendant box, waiting for my questions with answers I may not want to hear and
My love, where is that? In my heart or his? Love and lust are confused and linger in the scent of him on my heart.
My future is no more concrete then a speck of dust illuminated by the sun’s rays peaking through my lace curtains.
And death, what of that?
When it comes I will seal it and I in an empty bottle and set us adrift on an ocean of eternal possibilities and
Where the tide will take us is where we will stay and begin again, and again, and again…
Wisdom leeches out of melting snow banks and
Star light travels from the ground up as
moonlight seeps though the pores of the earth and floods the sky with peace.
Come, sit by my side in the forest at midnight and
Feel the earth’s truth in her being.
Be still and let your soul be free.
Then hold me tightly as it is a beautiful but bumpy ride!
I deal in words.
Words are cheap.
Saying things doesn’t make them real.
Words can mislead, lie, and twist the truth.
Words were never meant to be taken literally.
There is peace in my body,
Light in my eyes,
Love in my heart, and
You in my soul.
I am an interesting mixture of
Timelessness and words.
Hold me close and I will enlighten you,
Love me deeply and I will give you heaven,
Hurt me and your thoughts of me will stain your soul
Forever, so, take care and
Be mindful of how you hold me.
Stars swirl in a midnight sky as
The forest tiptoes through darkness,
Aware only of itself.
The owls have returned.
Their voices in chorus give life to the darkness.
A fox barks back to them in welcome,
His winter loneliness forgotten.
(4/7/16)
The early spring silent snow
Fits my mood.
It is a white dusting of truth
Accentuating every little branch and twig,
Making every little lie all the more obvious.
The silence into which the April snow is falling
Seeps through my eyes and into my heart
As if to smother and quiet its
Telltale beats.
It comes as blessing and a curse by
Prolonging the inevitable with maybe that one last chance.
But I know the sun will come out and
It will all be just a memory …
Once again.
Snow flattened grass
Reawakens in the spring sun.
Snow banks dwindle and melt
Like arctic glaciers.
Crocuses brave the still icy winds to prove their faith in spring.
Still leafless branches sway and clack together in spring’s winds
While sap flows up from their feet and warms them from within.
Objects left outside since late October emerge from the snow, preserved as if having been in an altered state of timelessness.
Time stood still under the snow while the world and sky above
Flowed seamlessly from one season to the next, one viscous winter storm passing silently on to another.
Lawn chairs I last used in November have returned, appearing as if just back from vacation.
The chairs stand in a circle around an old, rusted fire pit with welcoming extended arms and empty seats. So I join them once again as a new season of light and promise begins, today,
Easter Sunday.
Easter is a day of great joy and hope to millions all around the world.
A day to celebrate the defeat of death and the promise of eternal life but
I see evidence of His promise every day, in early spring tree buds, in the yellowing of willows at the end of winter, in the greening of the meadow grasses and the songs of the returning summer birds.
Spring springs eternal in Gods promise to all beings, not just the human ones and not only through stories in a nice book written so very long ago …
So take a moment each day to stop and look outside and see that
Easter’s promise is everywhere, not just today but every day, in every being and
Every season.
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