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
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
The hollow acorns spill like fat hail onto the clay
I wonder if the squirrels had their party
When night time comes and silent calmness still
we hear the gunshot pop of the mighty oak seeds
fall onto rooftops and roll to their woody graves
Aye the hibiscus still flitting about
although her petals dry and withered
Sweet smells of night-blooming jasmine
permeate the nostrils instead
as we waft by their perfumed doorway
Dawn’s cloudy turns to sunset’s muted glow
and all between is mix of haze and bright
cool and warm and wishing for snow
but only in dreams does the icy world flow
for here we have wind and sun and fallen acorn hull.
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
It’s been over 2 months since I’ve written. I’ve sat down at my computer multiple times since then and just stared at the blank, white screen. But nothing. I can’t type a word. I’ll think of a dozen ideas and lines when I’m biking, driving, scouring the aisles at the grocery store, walking up the gravel drive toward the classroom to work. But at the computer, NOTHING.
I don’t like writing about not being able to write. I’ve done it several times on this blog. But what’s a writer’s blocked mind to do?
I’m hoping at least this will unclog the faucet and let something flow again.
It’s been one crazy 2+ months. So much so that I can’t even divulge it all. Let’s just say I’ve dealt with death, loss, sickness, physical pain, emotional pain, disappointment, anger, sadness, despair, sometimes all those negatives at once. Most of it being out of my control, which makes it that much worse.
However, among all that imperfection and just plain suckiness a warm blanket covers me with children’s hugs that squeeze me from the core, family support I forgot I had, the kind ear of friends, a rogue, sweet birdsong in the middle of a dark silence.
I told one of my dear friends if we don’t have Hope, we have nothing. There is always hope here, even in somber moments when the only faucet flowing are the salty tears plopping down my neck.
I’m grateful for so many things. There is light and laughter and happiness. And that’s what keeps me, all of us, afloat.
Filed under A Writer's Mind
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
This morning I sat on my lanai
and there I watched a butterfly
it flitted from leaf to bulb to twig
then soared along the crest
of October wind
The bees
they were present too
preparing loquats born
below winter’s moon
And beyond the shrill hull
of locust call
a songbird chirped her
pleasant psalm
And all these things
before the hour of ten
Would if I could have
this morning again
To sit in solitude
with nature
at my shoulders
To notice perhaps
what do not others
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
Creators and inventors
before our time
Could they have had an inkling
of what’s to come?
To understand our future
is to know our history
That’s what I tell the children
when they sigh in boredom
All the Haikus in the world
The undiscovered
scribbled poetry
Every painting made famous
long after the painter
left this realm
Can one word
one stroke
one snapshot
one chord
change the world?
The question as ridiculous
as toy glass
But we must continue to ask it
Don’t put away the pen
The world’s heart cannot survive without
it.
Image courtesy of waldenwritingcenter.blogspot.com
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
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
When the sea was calm
I was restless
awaiting the flip
of a mermaid’s tail
And when it did not
come into view
I closed my eyes and
floated for a few
Then the swish of the
shimmering propeller came
and I welcomed it joyfully
and she the same
The sea swirled around us
and we became a team
swimming underneath
the stars and sun
Our movements synchronized
our thoughts one
And the swirls continued
and the restlessness passed
nagging loneliness
lifted at last
Her gleaming essence
my solace in waters of blue-green
her songs always calling to me
Her fondness growing as well
as she inhaled breaths
of my starry air
Then swirls became waves
and waves became storms
we held tight to each other
never washing upon the shore
But there was nowhere to dock
nowhere to keep moored
Our cadence continues
on the high seas
her fins never tire
my feet never sleep
We sometimes dream
when all was composed
when restlessness
was all we owned
But the truth among
the swish and the stars
is that our sea
was never really calm.
Photo courtesy of http://sapphiresirendreams.com/mermaid-lore/
Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet
Busted Flip Flops 