Tag Archives: humanity

The Time We Have

Some of us find ourselves with more time on our hands lately. Some of us are deemed an “essential employee”. Whatever your situation, and I hope everyone safe, healthy, and financially stable throughout this strange journey we’re all moving through, there is TIME– to capture, seize, harness. Our state is on a “Safer-at-Home” order. My neighbor says he’s “going out of his mind” yet in that same breath he said he wiped the grey dust off his guitar and clumsily yet earnestly strummed the strings, something he hadn’t done in years. Our community pool is closed due to the current situation. Last Thursday I strolled around the neighborhood for a much-needed leg stretch after work (I’m considered an essential employee and have been sitting in front of a computer every day for hours, not something I’m used to as a Montessori teacher). A mom and her young daughter had filled two blue paddling pools, placed them in their driveway, and were giggling and playfully splashing each other.

Although we have implemented distance learning at our school and conduct regular Zoom meetings, some of my students have taken up knitting. Some have baked sweet, chocolaty treats. Some have FaceTimed for 6 hours while watching the same Netflix series.

I have seen even more families taking walks together than usual. My brother said it is the same where he lives, 700 miles away from me. I’ve smelled the waft of charred food on grills more nights than not. I’ve heard an unusual abundance of birds singing in the tops of the oak and Norfolk pines. Gone are the shrieks of sirens every hour, the blasting hum of airplanes overhead, the smell of air thick with the pollution of car exhaust and industry.

Even though I’m still working, I’ve had a few more moments to enjoy the sound of birdsong, make brownies from scratch, read my current fiction of choice, water my neighbor’s garden, connect with friends I’ve haven’t talked to in months. At first I was consumed by the news and social media but I’m making a concerted effort to put the phone down for chunks at a time (there are some funny memes out there, though).

This week is my son’s 16th birthday. There will not be a car in the driveway with a bow on it (that wasn’t happening anyway). We will not have our usual hibachi feast with friends and family. But we will celebrate in the quiet and simple fashion we’re all becoming familiar with.

I’m just embracing the good that can come from a dire situation. And there is good here. And there is time.

(But I haven’t been to Walmart to buy toilet paper).

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Filed under Observations

Not Just Grey Matter

We’re sun-kissed and
exposed
not just grey matter
Hopeless romantics and dreamers
Keepers of secrets
collectors of quartz and jasper

We listen to guitar and synth
and violin

Take out the garbage
bring some in

On this plane we have evolved
no more screaming in the driveway
all is calm

No we are not just grey matter
We are of the same blood
forever connected
unremittingly.

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Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet

Sunset by the Sea

That golden orb
lay down so eloquently
the bottom of it
pulled down by the sea
or perhaps the rotation
of the earth
that which we cannot see

And I shared a bench
with an old man
who did not speak
But I heard his heart
when his eyes were alight
no grief
We took in the moment
each of us our own thoughts
dreams hopes desires
beliefs

Sunset by the sea
I gave gratitude
for you and me
for spirit peace equality

A couple lay in each other’s arms
a family played joyfully
mother and son
daddy and baby
a circle of souls
waxing philosophically
three women late in their years
a wet-eared puppy

That golden orb
not a backdrop
but the focus of the moment
holding us all together
to bask in its enjoyment

IMG1097

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Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet

Moonlight Swim

The moon and I had a moment tonight
while I was bathed in its vanilla light

it hung gently between two trees
and it spoke reverently to me

Why are we here? I asked
telepathically

And sooner than it took
the glow of its crest
to reach my hollow chest

I heard the answer

And I knew we were
all here
to savor to care to be

together
most imperfectly

moonlight

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Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet