A Change

It’s subtle, but the signs appear.

Cooler evenings. Dew on grass.

Leaves waving, a branch bending, colors changing.

The sky changes, the air thins, the sun weakens.

A season ending, a season beginning.

Missing the old, embracing the beauty of the new.

Like a raging toddler to a calmer kindergartener,

From clumsy puppy to a stately dog.

Miss the old, embrace the new.

From running swiftly, to aching muscles,

From fresh ideas to reminiscing.

dog on concrete road
Photo by Daniel Frank on Pexels.com

.

From youth to old.

Miss the old, embrace the new.

Next Year’s Bloom

Dear beautiful, grey, mild, temperate, and moody Seattle,

Remember when we first met? I was the girl with a ready smile and wave. That is how I arrived. Unaware, talkative and naive, but eager nonetheless.

You wooed me with your water, delicious and sweet.

You freshened me with your breeze, crisp and floral.

Summer came and more gifts you bestowed.

Mountains unveiled and waters blued. Forests came alive, vegetation unearthed.

Elms, Spruce, Cherry trees and Douglas fir cover the land.

Rosemary, daffodils and tulips fed my nose on my daily walks.

Later, dasies, multi-colored roses, and rododendrons colored the land.

Diablo, dahlias, hydrangea and lilies clothed in vibrancy.

As my eyes scanned the flora, my thoughts rose upward to the Creator

Skies of pink, and shimmering gold braiding the most blue skies.

Then came the fall with its rusty hue and chill. It came to stay and chased the sun away. The dark and grey days began and quickly wore out their welcome.

Winter ensued,  leaves falling staging the piney greens. Morning dew crystalized leaves and giving runners a smokey breath.

Inside, blankets and books littered the table while cocoa warmed the hands.

The longing for flowers became a constant dream. I can’t wait until they come…are they here yet? Will today’s sun hold any warmth?

Day after bone chilling day and skin’s tan all the way faded, body fattened and hiding in thickened fibers.

But even then, the beauty remained.

On a rare sunny morning, I glimpsed the mountains in all their “Swiss” beauty They waved a hello and longed for a visitor.

When I bared the cold, and shared the crispy paths with others, I filled my lungs with sharp, biting winds which helped clear the past.

In the wind, I heard, “You’re released.”
I smiled with parched lips, but teared up as the season wrapped up, a promise of another spring affirmed.

I stood…gazing again, stopping. Not wanting to turn away, I looked on, imagining the return of a season in Seattle and realizing then that I would miss next years bloom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is Divorce?

Divorce is when you realize you can’t listen to certain songs anymore.

Divorce shatters holidays.

Divorce means having to accept death to a dream.

Divorce means watching your kids dreams die.

Divorce means wearing a “less than perfect” label around your neck.

Divorce means living life being stalked by the past.

Divorce is watching your ex shrink.

Divorce is an unraveling of a cord.

Divorce grieves God.

Divorce means starting again though some parts have died.

Divorce makes little sense to extended young family.

Divorce is one big sigh…

Divorce is exhausting.

Divorce is joining a party you didn’t wish to be invited to.

Divorce bites.

Divorce is an ugly word.

Divorce screams shame.

Divorce aims at your heart and celebrates the bullseye.

Divorce cocks the gun and shoots straight.

Divorce is sitting alone on a hill and it starts to rain.

Divorce makes it hard to smile.

Divorce pain is found in your eyes.

Though divorce ushers in a new beginning, the end keeps resurrecting.

Traverse

 

It drives me to the coast of Rhome

It grants me passage to the peaks.

It yearns to harness nightly waves.

But, there in sleep, defenseless, I dream.

Then, realizing, I breathe and then turn away.

Awake, I rise from the warmth of the eve and rise to tangle in worlds unknown,

Traversing to corners and cultures new.

In woods and paths unknown, I unravel wounded threads,

Pass and intrude. In a gentle sweeping and uncovering, it’s trapped.

Hidden, trapped, desiring release.

I rest, waiting. Sometimes it comes.

I rest, waiting. Sometimes it flees.

Seeking. It can’t always be hidden.

 

No Longer

To “no longer” is to linger no more.

To “no longer” is to reboot.

To “no longer” is to act boldly on a new idea.

To “no longer” is to seek and pursue a more peaceful way.

To “no longer” manages chronic pain.

To “no longer” is to change directions.

To “no longer” is to excitedly wander in new lands.

To “no longer” is to discover renewed strength.

To “no longer” is to rest a matter.

To “no longer” is to stop the course.

To “no longer” is to choose a new way.