Trudging knee-high in leaves
discarded shelter now food for soil
The passing of time long arduous
and fleeting all at once
We wish for high winds
to carry all away
And when they do come
blow our hearts out of our chests
Maddening deafness except
the blind chatter of our minds
and the crunch swish crunch
of fallen foliage at our feet
Trek on still
with our eyes set forward
Lest we cackle like mad men
in the unforgiving forest of
despondency.
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
All relationships need kindling
It’s too easy to become wrapped up
in the monotony of daily life
and think things will fix themselves
with the drying of the plastic dishes on the counter
But sometimes gotta get out of the kitchen
go to a place where there are no dishes to wash
no routines to keep
a different perspective and air to breathe
We played in the field after dinner
and it was not planned
I saw you smile in the dunes
and make jokes while pedaling the surrey
It wasn’t you and I arguing
or me wishing you were 8 again
We were just ourselves
and there was no animosity
or harsh words or sadness
There are new memories on the beach now
a twinkle in my eye when I look southward
and see the city where we spent a weekend
A much-needed weekend
spontaneous and free
The you and me that always has been
and hopefully always will be.
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
A bird call
a meditation song
words spoken to the sea
spinning in the high winter’s sky
where the pelicans fly
and the hawk and dove and osprey
singing their tune
which I cannot translate
yet reminding me to breathe and let be
Uttered forth among ocean waves
these affirmations floating to you
and cascading back to me.
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
I need to bathe in the music of the soul
That which is beautiful and free
without sadness
I don’t want to bathe in the bloated belly
of discontentment and sorrow
and hopelessness
There is a light out there
that shines brighter than any
chasm is dark
And it doesn’t blind
but leads and fulfills and carries
when the void does come
Bathe with me in this
Engulf in the sweet luminous sound
of all that is good in this world.
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
It’s a rare cold day here
one meant for staying close in
and keeping the biting breeze out
Or perhaps to face the bite
let it rattle your bones for a bit
then come inside and take a warm sip
There’s tea on the stove
coffee in the carafe
Sun is gleaming on the chilly
palm fronds outside
But my couch is empty
too many cups in the cupboard
January can be an icy stare
smoke-filled rooms with nowhere
to breathe
Resolutions already falling away
A need for connection
but the line is dead
Suit up and carry on
it’s just one more day
one rare cold day
But with the birds flight
south-wind, still
a struggle to let go within.
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
OK so it happened again. There was a definite come-down two days after Christmas for me. Did it happen to you, too? This was a particularly zen holiday so that makes it worse. I didn’t Scrooge one second this year. But since I was a chubby cheeked toddler and all the Christmases in between the come-down creeps in. Like New Year’s morn when your head is pounding and the clock to punch back in at work is ticking furiously.
I know the holidays aren’t great for everyone. But can I wax mystical about mine this year? Just for a minute.
It was so peaceful. None of my perfectionism reared its ugly annoying little sharp-tongued monster head. My son said it was “The best Christmas ever!” He says that every year but for some reason I think he meant it most this time. We saw lots of family and friends and also had quiet time at home. Our usual traditions still intact (although our fave Indian restaurant was closed on Christmas Eve so we had Thai instead. And they gave me a gift of hugging hippo salt and pepper shakers!) Me and my son’s dad, or as I will now call him my co-parent, had a truly lovely time together. Like old friends again. No stress. No high expectations. And the weather was fabulous.
So I had my little come-down pity party after. I had a short cry in the shower. It would have lasted longer if “Cat’s In the Cradle” had shuffled on my iPod.
Now onto the list. There have been years where I was like, “I’m not gonna participate in making that ridiculous resolution list. They all list-fully fall away in a matter of months or even weeks anyhow.”
But in my concerted effort to continue the forward motion of zen, I shall make one this year for sure. So off the top of my clear head here it is.
So there it is. I’m sure I could add more but I’ll stop now. Eight is my favorite number anyway. The first and the last on the list are definitely the most difficult.
I’ll refer back to this list in times of turmoil. And look back to the zen of Christmas holiday 2016. What are your resolutions? I’d love to know.
And oh yes, I wish you a beautiful 2017. Happy New Year!
Filed under A Writer's Mind, Observations
Soaked in cold spring water
engulfed in it
I want to paddle against the current again
River rocks
you helped me walk over their slippery path
A mountain’s bald peak
grass as soft as cotton
No stress there
Can we go back
on days like these
where life has sucked out
all the marrow of zen
and time is on fast-forward
The summer of 12
the best in my life
You 12, me 42
But among those swaying pines
and silly laughter
I was the same as you
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
One of my favorite holiday movies of all time is Love Actually, an early 2000 British classic among Gen X-ers and the like. Throughout this humorous, heart-felt, quirky, kitschy film they use the line, “Because it’s Christmas….” to rebuild friendships, confess love, and just downright be real.
I’ve been using this line for weeks now. And it’s liberating.
“Because it’s Christmas… I’m going to give candy to the kids at school.”
“Because it’s Christmas… I’m going to have a piece of chocolate at breakfast.”
“Because it’s Christmas… I’m going to stifle the angry urge to curse out the person who just stole my parking space and instead give them a nod and a smile.”
“Because it’s Christmas… I’m going to spend more money than I should on gifts for my loved ones because it just feels good.”
“Because it’s Christmas… I’m going to wear ridiculous holiday-themed hats and slippers and shirts.”
“Because it’s Christmas… I’m going to drink more tea and coffee than I have in over a decade.”
You get the point. Call it an excuse. Call it an opportunity. Whatever the case, Christmas gives me reason to be a little nicer and a less frustrated perfectionist.
Some people hate the holidays. It’s too commercialized. Too much pressure. Too many sad memories. I get it. I’ve been there.
But not this year.
Because it’s Christmas I’m doing everything I normally do but with even greater purpose and zen. And I’m doing it in fuzzy elf slippers and a t-shirt that reads “Santa is my Sugar Daddy.”
Filed under Movies I Like
A photograph of you welcomes
anyone entering my door
It was taken years ago
The scent of tobacco leaves fill my
olfactory memory
Chats by the kitchen table
Home-grown tomatoes and buttermilk
biscuits
Scribbled artwork on the fridge
Crumpled tissue next to the snuff cup
We have the same middle name
Decades of holidays and summer visits
tree climbing
autumn leaf pile jumping
Tag in the backyard
Old toys smelling of age
Walks in the cemetery
You always bought me pajamas and
kitchen towels for Christmas
Now shredded and worn thin
Your birthday card consistently the first
in my mailbox
But this year it never arrived
You always stood at your front door
to watch me drive away
And this is how I will remember you
Furiously waving as if never wanting to say
good-bye.
Rest in Peace, Emma Marie. Granny. You will be greatly missed.
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet, Yep I'm Becoming My Mother
When we clothe ourselves in the past
we are suffocating our future
like a wool scarf wrapped around the neck
during a long, stifling summer
These photographs on the wall
a reminder of all we have worked for
all we have accomplished
the adventures and the love
I could cry like I did yesterday
and long for the good times
the beginning of a journey
that would indefinitely change its course
I could enshroud myself in regret
and guilt and longing
like I have many times
looking through the cracked mirror
But then I am not breathing
am not truly living
So I must inhale the air of the present
nod to those smiling photographs
Know I have done good in this life
and there is much more to do
unravel the woolen suppression
unbound by the virtue of today’s truth.
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
Busted Flip Flops 