Thursday, August 31, 2006

I've Loved You

~ ~ ~


I’ve loved you
for all these years,
intensely and purely.
I’ve loved you
deeply and tenderly
and tried to meet
your needs.
I’ve loved you
when no one else could
because of your mood
but I knew you were hurting.
I’ve loved you
when the things you’ve done
have torn my heart apart.
I’ve loved you
thru the hurting times
when you’ve accused
and spoken wretchedly.
I’ve love you
because I love you
even when I couldn’t love you.

But now.............
The time has come
and I don’t know
if I can anymore.
I’ve loved you
thru thick and thin
but now I’m all loved out.

~ ~ ~

Monday, August 28, 2006

The Crescent Moon

~ ~ ~


The night is cool,
and the sky is very dark.
The crescent moon rests in the sky,
forming a cradle of light.
I’ve watched it a while,
soothed by the peace of it all,
and in my mind
I see you there,
nestled in the curve of the moon
safe and secure,
just as you are in my heart.
Sleep, my dear one,
lulled by the song I sing in my head
and warmed by the blanket of love
I’ve tucked around you.
I love the moon,
and I love you.

~ ~ ~

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Now and Then

~ ~ ~


I think of you now and then.
We’ve been a long way,
together and apart.
The together was always tender
and passionate and short.
the apart was long
and often sad,
for never were you out of my heart.
Have you tho’t of me now and then?
We drifted in and out
of each other’s life
and never could
quite hang on to what we had
for long.
I didn’t quit loving you
but I gave up
on us.
I moved on -- away from us.

Now and then, through the years
I’ve missed you.
I miss you still.
Where are you?
Are you happy?
I hope so
and yet I hope
you’re not completely so
because I want you
to miss me
now and then
as I do you.
I still love you
---- just a little
---- just now and then.

~ ~ ~

Saturday, August 12, 2006

So Close

~ ~ ~

So Close

It is so close.
And I’m feeling everything at such a deep level.
I can now count the days,
not the weeks,
until I leave here.
This is my home.
It has been my home for 30 years.
As I pack the last of the belongings
I’m feeling a heavy sadness,
knowing that it is real,
this is the end.
I also feel relief
in knowing that I am moving on to another stage of my life.
This next part is what I’ve longed for
for a very long time,
but the change is still difficult.
I’ll be OK.
It will all be alright.
It’s just another challenge
in the journey that is my life,
the journey that I’ve come to accept is
never ending.

~ ~ ~

Friday, August 11, 2006

Haiku III

~ ~ ~

Delicate, fragile,
pretty columbine blossoms
grace the garden.

~ ~ ~

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Pennies On The Ground

This is a bit happier than my previous post, but it is rather bittersweet. My parents passed away just 3 weeks apart. Dad went first, and although Mom was deep in Alzheimer's, I know that their bond superseded earthly limitations, and she knew. She began to refuse food or liquids immediately after his funeral. They're reunited now, and I know they are happier than we can begin to imagine. This gives my heart have a joyous peace.

~ ~ ~

Pennies On The Ground

When I find a penny on the ground,
I pick it up.
I used to walk past them.

Some say a penny on the ground
is just a penny
on the ground.

Why waste the time
for one cent?

Then my father died,
and I found a penny.
I picked it up,
and I cried.

Some say a penny found
is a sign of good luck,
but only if it’s “heads up.”

The penny is in a jar,
a very tiny jar I brought
from my mother’s house.
And when my mother passed away,
she joined my father,
and I knew they were together
and happy.
And I found two pennies,
side by side.

Some say a penny found
is a message
from the other side,
a reminder of love.

I picked them up and I wept
because I knew,
regardless of what
some say,
my mom and dad
sent their love.

Then I went home
and put the pennies
in the little jar.

For several months
I found pennies,
two by two.
And when I did,
I put them in Mom’s little jar.
Each time my eyes teared.
But each time
I also smiled.

Some say pennies are just pennies,
some say they’re good luck,
some say pennies are from heaven.

After a while, I found two pennies
less often.
I was healing, and I no longer needed
the frequent reminders.

When I see a penny
on the ground,
I pick it up.


And I smile.

~ ~ ~

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

The Shadow of Mom

This was written just a few short months before my mother passed away.

~ ~ ~

The Shadow of Mom

She wanders in the room,
looking at everything
and nothing,
and mostly looking through us
at things and people
we can’t see.
She talks at us
and around us
or through us
to others in the room
beyond our eyes,
and occasionally she says
my name
or yours,
and our hearts quicken
in hope . . .
. . . but no, she’s gone again
to that other world
only she can see.
I miss her,
the one she used to be.
and I love her,
now so vulnerable
yet safe in this place
where I can’t go.
She has loved me all my life
and now I love enough for
both of us.
And that’s all right.

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Haiku II

~ ~ ~

At the water’s edge
brightly colored flamingos
wading in the pool

~ ~ ~

Sunday, August 06, 2006

The Wind

~ ~ ~

The Wind



The wind blows thru the trees, and the leaves quake, not from fear of the strength of the wind as it passes through, but almost as if they giggle as the fingers of the wind tickle the tender undersides of the leaves.

The wind continues to bounce among the trees, time after time tugging at the branches and leaves, then darting away quickly. The limbs of the trees quiver and sway back and forth as if trying to reach out and grab the mirthful breezes to stop the teasing or perhaps to tease back, causing the little wind to rechart its course. All the trees seems to come to life at the skillful jousting of the wind, merrily weaving in the morning sun.

The wind, itself invigorated by the happy encounter of the leaves on the trees, hurries onto the plain to find the native prairie grasses standing tall with only a hint of movement. The full heads on the grasses seem to taunt the wind, saying, “We won’t play. We’re here to bind the earth against your breath, oh wind, so the soil doesn’t blow away when swatted by your invisible fingers. Our task is serious and we will not play.”

The wind hears the challenge and stills itself a bit, then circles a few times while considering the haughty boast, then swoops toward the grasses, ready to tease and tug until the grasses, like the leaves of the trees, give way to laughter.

The grasses, rather than relent to the individual fingers of the wind, seem held by invisible threads as they sway in graceful unison to the pushes and yanks of the wind. Even when the wind circles back again and once more tries to separate the regal stalks and force the whoosh of nature’s laughter, it’s without fruition -- the grasses dip and sway always in gentle unison.

The wind, bored by the communal dance of the grasses, moves on to seek another playmate, Now in the placid waters of the lakes which form a chain in the valley. the wind begins to nip at the glassy surface, tweaking and ruffling, as if to say, “Come! Play!”

The waters of the lake, stirred by the persistence of the wind, ruffle as if grumbling from beneath, saying, “Go away, impertinent wind, leave us in peace.” Occasionally the waters lap higher as if to encourage the wind into a stronger, deeper poke into the depths of the water. And so this continues, back and forth in increasing jabs until the waters begin to froth in anger toward the invisible intruder. Finally the wind tires of the game and looks for another quest.

Across the countryside the wind swirls, up hills and thru valleys, across the backs of woodland animals. stirring their fur and lifting their noses to learn what is nearby. The wind scatters the fluff from the heads of dandelions and loosens the pine cones from the tree and watches them bounce on the ground. The petals of the wild roses, fading on the vine, are tossed in all directions.

Winging birds adjust their flight as the wind lifts and drops them, and they continue on their journeys in search of food, water and shelter for rest. The wind tries, as it did with the trees, the grasses and the ponds, to direct the path of the birds. But the birds, intent on their mission, simply adapt their wings to accommodate the interference of the wind, and continue on their journeys. Occasionally one bird loses the shelf of wind on which it has been riding, drops suddenly for several feet, but always they recover and with a great flapping of their feathers, regain altitude and resumes its course.

The wind tries, as it has throughout the morning, to change the course set by the various birds in the sky, and upon realizing that he has met another tireless resistance to the gusts he is producing, ponders on what is next .

Finished with the meadow, the wind climbs the hill and swoops quickly down the far side and onto the desert. Here he finds loose sand to toss and flip. The wind twists through the cacti and moves close to the ground, bending the growth of the mounds of grass almost to the ground. Then it slips beneath the bellies of the desert creatures, the horned toads and prairie dogs, cooling them as the crawl across the hot sand.

The small creatures of the desert floor seem unperturbed at the wind. Even when the wind causes the sand to pelt against their bodies, they simply close their eyes against it, pause to confirm direction of their paths, and resume their activities. Rather than finding this an irritant or a cause to play, the animals seem to welcome the cooling effects of the breeze.

Finally, as if exhausted by the efforts and bored at the rest of the world, the wind slows, quiet and almost still. Night is near, and as the moon rises on the horizon, she says to the wind,

“What a good job you have done today.
You dusted the leaves on the trees, helping them breathe.
You shook the pollen in the prairie grasses so there will be more to grow, and while you didn’t notice, the corn in the nearby field was pollinated, too, and will feed many people.
You stirred the waters of the lake, turning oxygen deep into the lake for the fish.
You cooled the creatures of the forest and the desert, and spread seeds of multitudes of plants.
You lifted the bird in flight and helped him to reach his destiny more easily.
You did your part to synchronize nature.
Rest now, wind.
Tomorrow you will do so again.”

And so the little wind settles down in the bosom of Mother Earth to sleep for the night, and to prepare for the day ahead.


So goes life -- a random series of
unrelated, innerconnected events.

~ ~ ~

Wednesday, August 02, 2006


~ ~ ~


If I gave up everything for you,
would it be enough?

If I gave you everything in me,
would it be enough?

Is anything ever

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Already There

I forgot to say when I posted the haiku with a picture yesterday that it is the beginning of a goal I've had for some time. I've wanted to pair photographs with my poetry or essays with the thought of perhaps some day in the future actually publishing something like that with my own photos and written works. I plan to play with this for a while and see how it goes.

~ ~ ~


Already my heart wings over the desert floor,
and I smell the faint essence of the sage
as it charges the air
with its seductive
and gentle scent.

I can feel the sandy earth
under my feet,
the softness with each step,
almost fluid,
as the grains shift gently,
fielding the weight of my foot.

I close my eyes
and I hear the sound
of the wind ticklling the scrub growth
and teasing the piƱons
across the foot of the mesa.
There is no other sound,
no crickets,
no birds in this melody,
only the wind passing thru
the strong, enduring plant life
of this desert landscape.

The cool, dry air passes across my forehead,
taking away the heat,
caressing the brow,
reminding me that I belong to the desert.

I turn my face to the sun,
and I close my eyes.
I absorb the beams
with gratitude,
feeling the familiar desert sun
as it leaves soft warm kisses on my face.

I’m not there yet,
but my memories and my dreams
hold me gently in their arms
until it can be.
Please soon.

Losing You

Have your even had that experience of watching someone significant in your life walk away for that dreaded last time? You know it must be, for whatever reason (this one was moving away), but your heart just wants to leap from your chest and follow. It can't, of course, so you decide to will that person to never, never forget you, to have a pang of memory (hopefully guilty) every time that he or she looks at another person. Yeah, well.

~ ~ ~

Losing You

I’m not losing you.
I can’t lose what I’ve never had.
I’m resigned now,
In fact almost glad
Of your going.

But I don’t love lightly ––
or briefly.

May you have good health,
Good luck, ––
And a good memory.

~ ~ ~