March clouds
Windy wisps
On a blue sky
Will you sprinkle a soft white glow?
Or are you really going to bury us in snow?
—
About the poem:
So pretty, I thought, on this 50F day. Then, I heard the forecast of an upcoming snowstorm or two. Wait a minute!
How’s a girl supposed to get anywhere around here?
With hills that dance off to the left for a hundred miles
Can the sky really be that blue
Or is that my sunglasses?
No, it’s true!
With clouds that puff, and swirl and sway
The sun’s changing angles a psychedelic display
The whole cast deserves a standing ovation
That fill me with expletives and elation
I gotta budget extra time to arrive
With such a show as this
Do you really expect me to just drive?
—
About the poem:
I’m a tourist in my own home, after being out of the country so much the previous few years. I am floored by the view. And yes, I do need to add in time to just pull the car over, and exclaim (to no one) in cursing and cliches and take some pictures. I can barely stand it!
Floppy, shaggy ears
Such a sweetie, all those years
Sopping up our tears
—
About the poem:
Peanut! I got to hang out with this sweet doggie today, while doing some cooking and other little stuff. More than a comfort, her steadfast good nature brings a timeless quality to every situation. Just being near her while she is simply being herself makes me smile!
After a good day’s work
Getting things done
Running here and there
After dancing, cooking, and washing my hair
I settled in gratefully, gracefully
Savoring the night
Loving my life
And that’s when I got the word
My friends a half a world away
Are in jail
Accusations and denials
And as of yet, no chance for bail
Aaargh
I want to rip my chest open
And package my broken heart
I’d patch it up and tie it with entwined love
And send it to them overnight
But the last packages I sent
Never even arrived
The cell door slams closed
In my own living room
And my free spirit is locked away
Incarceration
Isolation
Solitary confinement
Huddled in a pile
In the prison of my own making
For a little while
I can only shiver
Then the tiniest sliver
Of light shines through
Tickles my soul
I can not deny
I am
Awake and alive
I am free
If I want to be
I finally pick myself up
Unlock the cell of hell
Step into the freedom
Of my own making
Of peace
Now, there is work to do
I can be of service
I am free to find the truth
I am
Free
I am free to serve
If I can help
I will
I can only do it
If I stay
Out of jail
—
About the poem:
I have some young men in Ghana that call me mom. When I hear of the difficult times they are having, Aaaargh! It’s hard to move, hard to know what to do. What I do know, is that when I get centered and calm first, I can do my best.
When we hear about our friends going through hard times, we want to dive into desperation with them, and simply agree that life is hard. While that’s an okay place for a bit, there’s no traction there. To lift someone up, we need to be strong and centered. In the 12-step program, this was called “Sharing experience, strength and hope.” That sums it up! When we hear sad, sad news, feel it deeply, then figure out a place of peace from where you can be inspirational and helpful.
When we think of him
We just can’t stay sad too long
His laugh forces smiles
—
About the poem:
In October, a longtime friend died. He was a joker. But his death came as a surprise and left many of us in shock. But when we start thinking of him, within seconds we are laughing, shaking our heads. His spirit was an impish light-hearted troublemaker, and it is that that won’t let us stay sad for long.
I was trying to do what was ‘normal’
But I just couldn’t do it
I just couldn’t be it
I couldn’t compete
I couldn’t keep it all together
But dang it
I tried
Then luckily
I sprained my ankle
Those I was trying to impress
Took care of me
I had to stop completely
And just go rest
Little by little
I’m getting stronger
And everyone is happy
With me doing what I can do
But making sure not to overdo
I had been making myself crazy
Trying to keep up
But now
I get to start over
So luckily
I sprained my ankle
—
About the poem:
In the past week, a few friends and I have, coincidentally, had sudden health things to deal with. And in all cases, they have the great side effect of changing the game so quickly, that it’s a chance to reset. It’s a chance to say, No, I can’t do it all. Or have someone else say, Never mind. Take care of yourself. You don’t have to do it all. We’ll take care of that.
Health problems are a great humbler and make it hard to keep up the “I, the Savior, will rescue you!” routine.
How have you been? Any lucky breaks? 🙂