When her eyes were closed
I skirted the damn issue
seaweed trapped the beach
where should we travel
our glass windows need cleaning
abstract prints mark X
Unbeknownst to me
jagged edges coil around
pillows to comfort
my heart is emptied
what lingers is sediment
a fear of the dark
Add your favorite sad song that plays on repeat when you are in a funk!
Endurance. Fire. Water. Emerge. Make a splash. Boundaries and halos. Forgiveness. Clarity. Path forward. Joy. Fog. Agony… The peace promised will arrive on time. Do not give up.
It has been quite a week. How has your week been? Care to share? Please do.
Last week was a whirlwind of activity. The chicks are changing drastically every day. Wing feathers are fully formed, downy fluff is molting, and their curiosity never ends. Every time I lift the brooder lid, they come running. They think every visit is feeding time. They are settled though, and like newborns, they need lots of restful sleep. It was then time I enjoyed some drinks on the back deck. And make a few wishes. Every thing in life seems to be solidifying. My dreams I have held so long are budding.
*****I am live this morning, writing on my back porch, looking out into a forest that stretches for an often visited 2-mile hike to reach a beloved pond. Sitting here, I cannot see the pond, or what is frolicking in the gentle breeze. But I suspect there might be a few geese, a heron fishing and a water creature causing ripples. Life. It is fragile and precious. This is but one day to celebrate what will never come around again.
At one juncture, the worn path to the pond crosses over a paved road, which causes one to be cautious, before embarking the final stretch of shaded wood, wildflowers, and bird song. All life congregates at the well. There, we are watered with physical needs as well as the spray of emotional and spiritual hope. If the pond dries up, life vanishes and moves elsewhere. If one remains, stagnation settles in and death occurs. Some will chose to die that day. Fear crowds out existence. Anger builds from fear.
I sip a cup of hot coffee, warming me up to the chilly start today. And present here are flocks of flitting Goldfinches eating River Birch seeds. This occurrence happens every June. In the same tree, a young squirrel is climbing to find if I have put out food. Cautious of my presence, he decides to ramble on. I take another sip of coffee and wonder. We need boundaries. We need to recognize our safe distance from others. Not to tread heavy-footed. But to be humble and listen. To understand and love.
Come sit on the bench and reflect with me. Where is your life heading? Are you ready to give into fate? Or will you push the ending far into the future? Life gives us multiple choices and opportunities to second guess motives, decisions and contemplate how best to achieve goals. What dreams and visions occupy your time? How will you be fed? And rested?
Until next week, shalom. Jeanne
Oh if i were young
life would be done differently
you would be the one
A few days back, these grape hyacinths were at their peak. As they stood attention, bees collected pollen while the days faded. All holding a promise, that tomorrow, faith rests on fate.
I believe in today. And see the grand scheme rise up before me. I put my hand to the soil and till the earth. Spread my pocketful of seeds with a smile. And water the dirt with tears knowing this too will pass.
grandma at the kitchen stove
stirring her pickles
hidden kittens purr
i feeding the baby calf
bowl full of cow’s milk
My Promise Garden arose from my grandfather’s suicide. The vision grows wherever I land. I have held this dream in my heart for 32 years. It only vanishes with my last breath.
(I have written about My Promise Garden, my brother, and my personal struggles before. They reside, buried in this ever evolving blog’s pages. Maybe those words will bud and blossom too. If I ever find the energy, I may edit my raw words into something more elegant. Until then, I rest in my meager efforts to get across how precious time is. Thank you friends.)
Most people endeavor to do life justly and loyally. Although we learn early on just how broken life becomes once the safety of home (our minds and bodies) is lost.
Why should we toil when a flower blooms eloquently without second guessing the push to find the sun?
In fertile soil
promise of milk and honey
hungry bellies bulge
Is it only our thoughts that cause us to fail? “I lack confidence in my voice.” “I tremble at everything I do.” “I worry this charade is a show put on to please.” Sound familiar? Or is there more to life than waking up?
Each day we should learn to take the path of least resistance. We have what we need to grow built into our DNA. You are alive and a million possibilities await.
And when life becomes totally unbearable, when we fail, that too is just. For it is then we learn forgiveness. To stare into a stranger’s eyes and whisper, “I welcome you friend.”