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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Broken Glass

 

broken glass shadow wooden table
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I had a dream. In the dream, I was carrying a glass filled with ice-water. I’m usually thirsty in real life if I’m dreaming this, but before waking up, I was bumped into by you know who. He was oblivious to the fact that I was standing right behind him with a glass in my hand. As he bumps into me, the glass falls, not quite shattered, but all the water spilled out of it.

I don’t remember being upset at him. It’s like I expected it. What is memorable is the image of me cleaning up the broken glass and holding up the glass and thinking. “You can’t drink out of a broken glass.” The glass is ruined.

I woke up sad, thirsty and unsatisfied. It was a fitting dream.

Let her be

 

This plant,  I’d almost given up for dead, when in reality her new life was yet to be. I’m glad I waited and I’m still waiting to see the beauty she will bring forth. It’s taking it’s sweet damn time though!

It will be worth the wait, to see the colorful blooms in all their snobbish beauty. They will be the highlight and center of my attention, for a while. Even for a good while. Until, with life’s daily troubles, I will become distracted or neglectful of it’s beauty. Not necessarily on purpose, but by sheer humanness.

That is when I need to say, “Hey, look, take care, water, pay attention…snap-out-of-it!”

For this plant though, I’m glad I waited on her. I’m glad I kept watering her and giving her attention. And, as before, I know she will unveil her beauty in her sweet time. Give her time.

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.

 

I’m an ostrich

Yeah, I’m not a musician, but some mornings I wake up hearing the best guitar solo, seriously, but with no instrumental talent to let it out. I guess I’m “inner-expressing”. It seems a much safer avenue then letting it out which at times I choose to do and it ain’t pretty, raw emotion rarely is. It‘s like having a lion inside my inner lamb that needs to roar and my inner controls just are tired of holding onto it, so I let it go. Roar! and all too quickly following the roar is a paw going right to my mouth which then transforms into like a chicken claw (can’t think of the animal lingo) and I become an Ostrich ready to stick my head in the sand. Do ostriches really do that? Ostriches are weird. I don’t even know if I’m spelling it right, but too early to check. Maybe I’m an ostrich because only recently I saw a video comparing a sound they make to a lion.

Ok, enough about animals I don’t know much about. I’m writing because I woke up early and I have a busy day ahead of me and I just want time to click the keyboard in peace. I may not be able to fly my fingers on guitar strings, but I can type, and fast! Okay, not like Elaine-fast 😉

What woke me up? A dream I was having. In it I was pulling up a chair and talking to my mother and I was enjoying it. The older I get, the more I get her, the more I understand her and it, the roar. She needed to roar at times, she needed us to know it was there and now I understand why.

~Roar! (then go stick your head in the sand)

 

 

Take Me Away

I wrote this with those in mind whose lives have recently (and not so recently) been invaded by the terrible choices that other humans make. I can’t understand, nor have I lived this terror myself. But, I’m realizing that this could be my life. It could be anyone’s life, unfortunately. But today, I can only imagine the pain, the tears. But I do care and think about the unimaginable that has become another’s life.

With still heavy lids, I woke up to a strange and terrible rumble, the shattering of glass, the smell of death and screams.

It invaded my dream of sandy beaches and the noise of a children’s laughter.

The terror of today took my life.

Took the life I had known. The life I had grown to love,

My life filled with love, with peace, the smell, the taste, the sounds of home.

That was my life, that was our life, that was our home.

Many, many days before, so long ago, so long ago…so long.

So… long… ago.

And now, I run, I hide, I fear not knowing where to go or where to sleep.

Where do I go, oh where do I go, where do I go, where should we go?

And finally I stop, I only stop because my feet can’t go anymore. I fall exhausted to the

ground. I rest because I have to. I try to.

I sleep. But, my mind forgot how to rest,  I recycle the images I can’t deal with during the day.

I awake trembling, searching, but groggy with sleep.

I succumb again…I sleep for a

moment.

Then, it begins again, the noise invades.

This is my life. A life with no home.

When I find I can’t run anymore, or sleep.

I find a corner and I weep.

I weep as a unconsolable child heaving and hugging myself into an ever smaller person.

I desire to disappear, to hide from my reality.

Because this is not life, this is not home, I have no peace, I have no hope.

Help, help, help me from this hell.

Take me away from here. Please take me away far from here. Take me, take me away, I pray take me away, take me away, take me away…from here.

My tears stop in my trembling hand, I hear a whisper, ” I’m here. I’m sorry.”

I look up I cry and I scream, “Why….,” I’m filled with anger…”Why?!…why?!.”

I hear nothing, but silence. It’s strange at first, I look around…wait, but nothing,

For the moment. And then…

The wind moves the trees, and the raindrops begin, quietly…steady..and then a deluge.

The thunder crashes and the earth vibrates with the thunder. It repeats again and again.

I have no fear. The storm reverberates.

And I know, he sees, he feels, he hears, he knows.

I see my trembling hand taken, I feel my hair caressed, I sense my face being touched and I hear…

“I’ll take you away, from here, from here, I’ll take you away from here, I’ll take you. I’ll take you, I’ll take you away, away,  away, take you away…take you from here, far away from here. Away from here.

I’ll take you away. I’ll take you away….away from here.

The thunder rumbles, the wind calms, the rain steadies. The storm is over. For the moment. A moment. Just a moment.

For just a moment…

He took me away, away from here. From the hell down here. From all the pain down here, In my life… right here. He took me, he took me, he took me and shook me awake, he took me away.

From here.

 

 

 

 

 

Lately

With the recent tragic events of late, I find myself with very few words to share these days. I would like to be the voice of encouragement, but I do that better with pictures.  I feel the need for a National Day or weeks of mourning.

But, just as we begin to put our hands together to pray,  another awful thing happens. I don’t know any of the people that have been tragically killed, but I still feel for and think about them and the families they’ve left behind and the time. May God have mercy on them and us all.

 

Friday thoughts

Many thoughts swirling around and it’s Friday, a somber Friday. A 9-11 Friday. Where was I? I was in my suburbia home in Texas with my three small children gathered around the television just as many that day were. I had just listened to a message from my husband that he’d left early on the answer machine. He was in Florida on a business trip. His voice and breathing sounded strained, and fearful and it got my heart racing.

I turned on the television and was watching with my children trying to put together what my husband said in the message with what I was viewing live on television. The scene was playing again and again and the towers were smoking, but still standing. I’m sure my children had begun playing, but I could see they were also noting the distress in my countenance.

I stayed watching, listening to the reports and thinking, “Oh my, this is war!” and just as I was thinking a thought like this, I saw on the television as the first tower fell and I couldn’t believe it. It came down in waves and I was horrified thinking of all the people who were in it, around it and under it. I looked at the innocent faces of my young children and they were looking at me putting my hand to my chest and shaking my head. I decided reluctantly to turn it off at that moment. They like me had just witnessed a horrific, deadly scene.

I wanted to keep watching because I wondered what else might happen and what other building might be struck, and to make sure we were safe, but I couldn’t subject my children to this reality anymore. I wanted them to keep playing and to laugh and smile to help keep the normalcy in our home.

Sometime that day, my husband would call back and tell me that it would be days before I saw him because he would not be flying, but instead car pooling his way back to Texas with his co-workers. There would be no flying for a while. I was both thankful to hear his voice and grateful that we were alive when so many had lost their lives, but also I just wanted to be near him and to be held by him so that I could fall apart.

My thoughts and prayers are with all those involved. No, we didn’t forget.

~Peace.