Today

Maybe it’s the sweet, soft pink of winter

Or the light, pearl grey of hope.

Or the dark, cool green of pine.

But today I wish you were mine.

Winding Light

Light

Sliding, slipping, and skipping through leaves of my trees

It casts shadows I haven’t send for a year-they appear to tell me winter is near

Its light digs deep and dark along the backyard; places where the sun used to spill everywhere

I watch green, yellow, and red.

As each falls I turn my head, because I have heard it said, “snow is up ahead.”

Gliding shafts of summer sun chilled by earth’s early morning dew

Heat grown still on shots of cold, it is the only to hear instructions of when and how…

The light is changing and my mind is rearranging

Winding around the oak, pine, and spruce

Waiting for what only the purest light can produce:

the deepening shadows,

the glowing afternoon,

and the lingering moon.

Sometimes

Sometimes in hard times I need a smile

Sometimes in hard times I want you

Sometimes in hard times I want more

Sometimes in hard times I don’t see truth

Sometimes in hard times I don’t need anyone

Sometimes in hard times I see glory

Sometimes in hard times I see pain

Sometimes in hard times I seek honor

Sometimes in hard times I hide

Sometimes in hard times I need truth

Sometimes in hard times I come away changed

Sometimes in hard times I want something better

Sometimes in hard times the grass is greener far away

Sometimes in hard times it seems that is all life is…

FarFar

How do you describe love? Admiration? Trust? And respect for someone you’ve lost? What do you say when words don’t run deep enough? And how do you thank someone who has already left? I guess in my case you use someone else’s words.  Henry D. Thoreau once said, “How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.” How fortunate in my life I had an example of not only how to sit and write, but mostly how to STAND UP and live? 

hhmmmm?

I may not see with my eyes.

I may not hear with my ears.

I may not smell with my nose.

I may whisper instead of yell.

I may hide instead of being seen.

I may lie down instead of standing.

I’m a nut.

I’m a child.

I’m a -constantly changing my mind.

I am lost.

I am selfish.

I am fearful.

I write.

I dream.

I love.......................................................................................you.

icy toes

The light lingers and waits on icy toes.

It whispers against the cold,

Stifling sniffles on its nose.

It isn’t afraid of getting too old. 

changes

So many new-s, I knew nothing.
So many starts- I had a hard time starting.
So many fears- it became my home.
So many surprises, I was surprised.
So many changes... I changed.

sounds

Where do sounds disappear?
 Where is silence stored?
Does it fall like snow?
Into valleys far below?
Is there a large basket full of broken sound?
A home where old sounds abound?
Is there a comfortable old chair where old sounds sit? Cause I’m missing the sounds of comfort and peace.
Where would I go to find them?

does it take a cloud?

When I was a child I longed to live in the clouds
 A remote part of the blue, high above the earth flyin’ around.
 I would imagine light as a feather I could never be tethered.
 Bouncing, bounding out of sight High in the sky free like my kite.
 I looked to the air because it seemed a lot more fair.
A place where my life could coast along without care.
Up where there was endless light and space for flight, where a child could find wonderful delight.
Now I watch the clouds from below still wondering what it would feel like on my big toe?
For a place where freedom and light abound, Does it really take a cloud?