Piecing together elements,
Words and sentences from so long ago
Give illusions life to mind
Spent with ink stained hands
Penning letters to be sent
Across seas and oceans deep
To lands unknown,
Yet only dreamed
In a child’s eyes
Letters sent with love.
Take care and God speed
And all good blessings in between
Where your travels sent you,
Young men to wars
On desolate beaches and sandy shores,
Remember those whose ghost remains
A hundred years gone
Where do those names reside now?
On ledgers faded and yellowing pages
And bow tied stacks
In case he comes back,
Yet fragrance lingers
Of rose petals and crumbling sage
Remembrances of passion
And sun filled garden days
Who were you my friend
Whose life was gone
Long before it ever began,
And is she there to see you through
In the light of stars
Dancing again at the ball,
Where she gave you her hand
And love had been all.
This sweetest life we live
heart shaped world of happy days
the scent of childhood drifting through
the cracks and crevices
of our yesterday driven minds,
peanut butter cookie moments
sweet and smooth
befitting nothing more
than a cold glass of milk.
Thoughts drift back to days gone by
the dairy down the street
the scent of cows in meadows
muching grass to make the white goodness,
and the glass bottles with cardboard caps
sitting in metal cages on the porch
delivered before dawn,
to see how this life is changed
no longer the joy of a door stop delivery
but stores filled with choices
overwhelming to behold
when we just long for the simplicity
of days like we had found
Aprons and potholders made by tiny hands,
mismatched and ill fitting
but loved none the less
and the plate left cooling
in an autumn window
where the breeze pushed the flavors in
filling the house
with the sense of happiness.
Those days long gone
no children have I to teach,
to bake the sweets that I recall
except for the occasion that arises
when the need to deliver to another
a simple gift to welcome
a thank you or hello,
nice to see you and a thrown together sweet
for you to enjoy
and that maybe you too will remember
those days of your life
when life was simple
and lunch bags carried
a cookie or two,
made with love
by mothers hand.
Sitting at lunch reminiscing of when I was young and how the aroma of home made cookies would drift through the house and how now every variety can be bought off a shelf, but it’s the love built within that really matters, by hand and not machine, time spent to say hey, I care and here, have a cookie or two….or three….with love,
yummy photo found at: http://www.createdby-diane.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/Homemade-NutterButter-Cookies.jpg
and the recipe too. 🙂
Places of the heart
between the trees of memories
stands the home of falling waters
rushing back to carry me
through endless dreams of beauty
and visions of peace swirling through.
I know of you here
in this place where ghosts know secrets
the heart has shared
in sleep and waking I walk
amongst the ashes of yesterday
searching for answers
to questions buried in shallow ground,
amongst the rocks underneath my feet,
carelessly flipped up
to expose the earth below.
I place them one by one,
to build my path across the stream
and balance perfected
I venture slowly across
with tomorrow in my sights
leaving the echo of loneliness behind,
I come to receive a drink
silky transluscent blues
of clear joy and light
that falls from heights above,
rippling down the face of stone
to carry me away
A house I’ve always connected with since when I was younger studying the beautiful forms of architecture, this place calls to me like no other before and no other after.
The tiny golden key lay in shadowed dust behind the old stately bed. How long had it been here, who did it belong to and most important, what did it fit?
I searched the closets that lay empty and barren. The smell of ancient days forgotten trapped in webs that hung like lace.
In the back corner a small box lay. I picked it up and dusted off the cover to reveal a lovely pattern etched in the wood of a half-opened door and stars and a crescent moon in the upper corner. I searched and found a hole at the bottom of the box. How odd I thought to put a keyhole underneath. A strange little box in shape, not quite square yet not rectangular. Almost triangular with a few extra corners thrown in. I tried the key and it would not fit. I turned the key the opposite way and it slid in without effort. I was almost afraid at this point, with this ancient little box and it’s forgotten key. What would I find inside? I turned the key and a hissing sound, like air escaping erupted from one of the corners. a small stream of scent, like cedar and oranges and something forgotten drifted to my nose. I remember this scent from when I was a child. I had always connected it to my grandfathers jacket that was never worn. It hung long and dark and I often hid behind it during hide and go seek. I had never been discovered so I found it to be the perfect escape. How that memory returned to me in that moment and I thought I heard his voice from the floors below, although he has been gone for twenty plus years, still….it is his voice beckoning me to open this. I am afraid and I hold the box out away from me and this warming sensation begins to drift up my arms. I notice where the scent escaped there was a small bit of light, almost like a night-light one would use to comfort a small child from the things that go bump in the night. Open it, his voice said from somewhere behind me and I knew it would all be alright. I sat the box upon my lap and began to finish the turn of the key to release the lid. A snap from within, an inner latch opening and a simple music box song began to play. Somewhere in time, the rhapsody of yesterday and pennies came back to me and filled my heart with words that did not need to be spoken. You have returned I thought as tears ran down my dusty cheeks, you have found the door and I, the key….to be continued.
Just a little short story….what do you think I will find in the box? What would you hope the box contains? I leave the journey open to share….please let me know where it goes next in your eyes.
lovely photo found at : http://spraycan2.deviantart.com/art/Open-the-door-space-81700886
I was angry.
I was so angry I could spit nails and I wasn’t happy about that fact.
I am peaceful
I am Zen
And here I was like a dark storm that later came into being
But now, at this moment I was just plain old pissed off.
The dogs had run off while my back was turned and I thought they were being supervised by the other half, but they weren’t.
And I could feel my mellow mood escalate
I could feel the pressure rise
And the clouds grey dark above me and within me
And I walked.
I walked through the forest calling
And I was not in control
And I was angry
Because I wasn’t in control
And the winds picked up
And tree branches snapped and I knew the storm was coming
And I so badly wanted to lash out,
To kick a tree
To yell at the world
To spill my venom on the universe
And I couldn’t find them
And I was afraid
Of the what ifs and such
And I knew the moment of the highest point of mood
And found myself at the lowest
And I stopped.
I closed my eyes and. Just. stopped.
Find the middle, yes, find it.
I looked at my feet and there was a dainty feather
A bit mussed but I stroked it gently and a smile came from within.
More I said, I want more to the air that had become still
And I took a few more steps and here was a larger black almost perfect feather.
I bent down and looked at it, at its beauty and laughing out loud proclaimed,
Surely you can top this. I want one more.
Ten feet later a turkey feather lay below a tree.
Perfect clean, and gorgeous. I gently picked it up and held all three knowing I was ready.
I turned and headed for home, feeling that peace wash over me as the pressure subsided and the sky waited for me to stop and pick some plump blackberries, tasting their not quite ready sourness but enjoying the gifts regardless.
I had lost the anger.
I had found the middle.
The dogs sat on the porch out of breath and waiting, excited to see me.
I don’t know where they went.
I don’t know where my mind went for that short dark time
But we were home again. In the middle where we belonged.
As the door closed behind us, the crack of lightning filled the air and the rain fell like a thunderous waterfall. Winds forcing the water in and I turned the knob to the windows and I left them slightly ajar, not yet ready to lose the freshness, like my thoughts, letting the clean air in while pushing out the dark dank bitterness that slowly seeped away like the rain that ran like a river, down the hill and away.
Your words wash over me
Tsunami brings forth
Oceans of waves
Of love to my soul.
I float in the embrace
Of the water below the new moon
Echoes of my heart
Beating at peace.
You whisper to the senses
The lessons needing to be learned,
To be held true to all that is
To all that matters.
Strength buoys me in this movement
As I drift closer to shore
In reach of all I can feel,
To all that was meant
To set this love so free.
The anchor untied
Freedom of lightness inspires
To return bearing treasures
Of gifts of the sea
Of the essence of me.
Influenced lately by the new moon, being born in the sign of Cancer and feeling so loved today and also so very blessed at the gifts of words from wise friends.
Ocean breeze fills
The soul to overflowing
As it moves on its journey
To this moment
Days pass by steady
Prints left like memories
Behind in the sand
To be washed away
With every step.
Half full or empty
The endless question
Life’s little perceptions
Leave me wondering
Why here I sit
With a melody on my mind
And water flowing between each stride
As the sultry summer sun sleeps
Drifting below the horizon
Leaving a lingering sweetness
Like the finest wine
And a day spent
Loving this life.