Tuesday, November 13, 2007

No Promises

~ ~ ~ ~

You don’t want promises.
I understand that.
But you should know
that what I say is not
something tossed lightly at you
to see if you’ll wince.
I can only guess
the reasons for your cautious, wary stance.
And I won’t ask.
I don’t need to know.
I only need to show you,
through patience,
and by being constant,
that I’m not your past,
come back to torment you.
I’m now.
I’m complicated in some ways, I suppose,
but at the heart of it all,
I’m simply me.
And I’ll still be here
Just watch.

~ ~ ~ ~

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Five Little Angels

~ ~ ~

Five little angels,
maybe more,
waiting for me on the other side.
I had no chance to know them,
to hold them.
They were gone
before a breath was drawn,
before I could
touch their tender, soft skin.

At first I cried,
then the numbness began
and grew with each loss,
until my mind strangled.
And people said,
“But you’re young,”
and they said,
“You’ll have another.”

But over and over
I tried
and I cried.
And my heart broke.

When the time’s right
and I cross, too.
I’ll know them.
I’ll hold them
and the ache will be gone.

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

The Comfort in Your Arms

I've tried something new here. Click on the image if you need to enlarge it.

~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Come To My Dream

~ ~ ~

Come with me
to a place in my dream
where there is no past.
Be with me.
Stay with me.
And love me
for the while of this dream,
as if we neither
have been here before.
Love me
for now.

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

The Day Mom Died

~ ~ ~ ~

I remember the day my mom died.
My brother called,
a choke in his voice,
and he said,
“Our mother is gone.”
The world had stopped and was silent,
and it started again with a bittersweet joy
because Mom was no longer caught in the nether-land
of dementia
but she was gone from us.
I couldn’t speak for a moment
and neither could he.
Our mom,
our dear sweet mom,
was gone.
There was nothing more to say.
Our mother was gone.

I miss her.

~ ~ ~ ~

I love you, Mom.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Open Doors

“When one door closes, another opens.”
“When God closes a door, He opens a window.”

How many times have you heard words like those,
and wondered, especially at a hard time in your life,
Is it true?

I’m at a place in my life journey
where I’m finding that it completely true.
I’m standing in a spot so beautiful and perfect,
so filled with sunshine and flowers,
that it is surreal.

The doors and windows are all flung wide open,
and the breezes are swirling through,
each with a new delight,
of color and scent and touch,
so many opportunities at hand
that I can barely comprehend the bounty
lying at my feet,
surrounding my head,
and wrapping me in the warm joy of being alive.
Sometimes I’m almost afraid,
for this seems too good to be true.

The past has been a trial in so many ways,
and the reality of this seems fragile.
Perhaps it is.
Perhaps it won’t last forever.
But I’m willing to take that chance
and to ride on the golden wave while I can,
to sense the abundance of life
here in this place,
now in this time,
and for the rest of my life.

~ ~ ~ ~

Friday, April 20, 2007

Feeling Alone

This was written last year during the last weeks that I was in the house in Kansas City. I was . . . well, I think it explains itself.

~ ~ ~

It’s one of those restless nights.
I’ve slept, the short sleep of the early evening
then awakened with thoughts whirling in my head
and blocking the return to slumber.
So many thoughts, so many things
I feel I should decide or solve or change.
Or whatever.
My life is so unsettled.
Nothing is as it should be.
And I’m so tired.

I’m tired for the lack of sleep,
for the physical work,
for the emotional longing to be part of something,
for the fear I feel about the future
or the sadness for the past.

Perhaps most of all
is the fear about decisions
I must make alone.

I t seems this state of discontent is endless.

I see a challenge and try to follow its course
but before I see the end
it disappears into a fog.
And then I feel swallowed in the haze, as well.
I’ll remain there
until something reaches far enough
to grab me and pull me out of the mire.
What drags me from there may be a memory,
reminding me that I want to create new ones,
or encountering a task that I can’t walk around,
or, on the better days,
the voice of a friend
giving me the human contact.

But now, in the night,

the memories haunt me,
the tasks are out of sight
and the friends are asleep.

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Hearing the Wind

I've been away for a long time. I'm back. Life is good.

~ ~ ~ ~

Hearing the Wind

I’d been hearing it all day,
the wind blowing against the sides of the house,
rattling against the windows,
shaking the roof in a most noisy way.
It was something I noticed from time to time,
but I dismissed it as just part of the arrival of spring.
Later I left the house,
having forgotten about the earlier rumblings of the wind.
As my hand reached for the car door,
I felt the breeze across my face,
and I noticed the wind again.
I stopped and listened.
The wind was around me in swirls,
tugging at clothing and my hair,
but I no longer heard the noises of the house.
Now I heard the sounds of the wind
as it ran across the earth
and through the trees.
The resonance was a sigh,
no, a gentle whistle,
or was it a whoosh?
As it squeezed between the needles of the pine,
the tone was gentle, soothing,
much as the song of a mother’s song,
whispered lovingly,
and carried the scent of green,
the promise of life.
As I stood for those moments,
I first closed my eyes and drank in the sound and smells.
Then I opened them,
and I saw the trees around me
and the sky as blue as sapphire
with clouds so white it hurt to look at them,
yet I couldn’t look away.
And I drank it in,
sip by sip,
until I felt the lightness in my head.
A wonderful drunkenness caused by beauty.
And I felt the peace that I have so often
in this beautiful place.

I wonder about the differences we bring to the earth.
Putting our structures in the path of the wind
interrupts the natural flow of nature.
How do we balance our need for protection
with the earth’s need for freedom?

~ ~ ~ ~

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Chasing Butterflies

I'm anxious today, waiting to hear about things having to do with the house, getting on with the next step of my life. I'm feeling impatient with myself for the nervousness, impatient with others for delays, impatient with the Universe because this shouldn't be happening. And knowing that I can't change anything with anxiety or impatience or any of those other negative vibrations.

I remembered a poem I wrote sometime in the past. It isn't exactly as I remembered it, but I'm going to post it because it has a good, positive message. Maybe this will help me to wait until the time is right and all things are as they should be.

~ ~ ~


I watched you fall
While chasing after butterflies
On the beach.
You slipped on the loose sand,
Skinning your knees,
your hands
and your pride.
You were wounded, stunned
And sat there for so long
As if wondering
Where you went wrong.

I offered my hand to help you up
But you pulled back, not wanting to smear me
With your mistake.

How can I make you understand
That nothing’s wrong,
That we’re both sitting on the sand,
Not defeated,
Only resting,
So that we can chase more butterflies.

There’s one now!
Come with me!
This may be the one we’ll catch!

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

When There Is Love

~ ~ ~ ~

When there is love
No words are needed.
There are no bells
Or roses
Or silly fantasies,
But you’ll know love is present.

When there is love,
No one need say,
“We have love.”
It’s just there, as good and sweet
As any word could say,
Yet it defies words.

When there is love
There is warmth
And goodness that comes
From the communication
Of hearts.

When there is love
There is a tenderness to all.
Tenderness to your love,
To friends,
To strangers.

When there is love
We are filled with joy
Of the simplest kind,
Joy of togetherness,
Joy of youthful souls,
Joy of life.

When there is love
There is no need for words.
Let’s not talk ––
Let’s just love!

~ ~ ~ ~

Friday, February 02, 2007


~ ~ ~


I think I’ve seen more in the past few months
than I‘ve seen in the rest of my life.
Perhaps my eyes are open for the first time.
At first I was too young to see and understand.
And then I was too busy to look.
Finally I was too tired to let anything in.
Now things are different.
I have learned to look.
I’ve allowed my eyes to take in what is around me,
and I’m loving what is here.

~ ~ ~

Friday, January 26, 2007

Standing On The Edge

~ ~ ~

Standing on the edge,
looking in,
looking around,
seeing nothing.

What do I hear?
There is sound,
but it is nothing.

I know that I’m where I should be,
but I’m here

Sometimes we have control over life
and others we don’t
and knowing the difference
is key
to making life worth the living,
to being happy,
to avoiding being pulled
into the darkness
of nothing.

Holding on to the good in life
I know is what I must do.
Disappointment will be,
but I won’t give in again.
I’ll remember to be happy
even here,
standing on the edge,
looking in,
looking around,
seeing nothing.

I’m in charge.
Of me.
Of my frame of mind.
Of my happiness.

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Lost Joy

This was written a long time ago after a miscarriage. I can't tell you how emotionally painful it is to lose a baby. It's something you never get over.

~ ~ ~

What was our joy that day?
Why were we so happy,
Can you remember?
It’s hard
To think our hearts
Could have been so full,
And now it seems every bit of happiness
Is gone.
I’m so tired
Of feigning a tranquility
I really can’t feel
Just to keep away
The sad-eyed people
Who come to offer comfort
When they have no idea

Just let me be alone
To cry.

~ ~ ~

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Shooting Star

One of the amazing things in my new home is the nighttime sky. There aren't so many man-made lights as there were in the city to interfere with seeing the stars, and it is an awesome sight to be able to walk out in the yard and see so many stars every night. The zoom on my camera is good, but not enough to show the stars without using settings that I'm not used to just yet. But I can show you the gorgeous crescent moon.

~ ~ ~


I watched the star
shoot across the sky,
quickly it appeared
and quickly it was gone.
It’s difficult to imagine
that what seemed to take seconds
had actually been a millennium
and happened a millennium ago.
All other stars were paled
by the one
during those short, exciting seconds
when it streaked,
leaving a trail of stardust
like a memory
and was gone
with a blink of my eye.
And if I close my eyes again
I can remember the bright flash
and the sparkling powdery trace left behind,
the brief burst of fiery light
against the dark sky.
It reminds me of you.

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Words OF Love

~ ~ ~

What is is about us?
I know I love you,
There’s no question to that.
I look at you and I know.
It’s different from day to day,
My love -- just as the weather
Or my mood
Or the color of the sky
Is never the same.

How can I tell you that
So you’ll understand?

You want my love to be

It is! And it also changes!

But sometimes I know
You’re frustrated with me
And you don’t understand
And I wish I had the words
But I don’t
And you need to know
But how can I say it
And ... and ...

~ ~ ~

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Battle In The Sky

~ ~ ~

The sky is high blue,
that luxurious blue that comes
on a crisp fall day,
so rich that it seems endless,
pulling at you
and wrapping around you
till you feel warm and safe.
The azure is dotted
with light, fluffy clouds,
just here and there,
moving, wafting playfully.

Several jets have
crossed the sky today.
Where they passed,
they have left long streaks,
white streamers of mist,
crisscrossing against the blue.

The sunlight on the bands
gives an almost metallic appearance,
silver and gold shafts
boldly slashing against the satin sky.

Fanciful on this crisp, warm fall afternoon,
I ponder these spears of the gods,
winging across the heavens
in some sort of heavenly battle
or perhaps celestial olympic games.
Much more fun to imagine so
than to say simply,
“Ah, ‘con trails’,”
and look away
with no lasting memory
of the beauty on a fall day
full of whimsical daydreams.

~ ~ ~