Friday, May 26, 2017

finding the crown



it was hard to explain
my belief that we are trees
a spreading crown of possibility
so often we are stuck somewhere half way up the trunk.
he asked me if I would be disappointed to have ended
life only having explored half the branches
of my own possibilities.
and how to even know what exists up
that branch that is leaning towards the west
or the one that reaches highest towards the sun
overhead
I have no idea but it seems exciting,
having nothing to do with duty or the
expectations of others, only this open yawning
pathway to possibility.
why stop here.

Thursday, May 25, 2017

stopping at the side of the road



I pulled over onto the side of the road
to step into the rain to admire
A rainbow, a double rainbow, straddling a
dirt road through pasture lands.
this is paradise.
Just me and the rainbow, no other cars
or people, not even a single sheep or cow.
just a vibrating power line.
only the sound of drizzle on the windshield,
the sound of droplets falling to the ground
from the open car door,
a distant sound of highway traffic.
this was the moment to stop at the side of the road.
experience tells me that such beauty is
évanescent, I need to stop now,
now, on the side of the road, in this drizzle,
in the moment, now.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

I've been thinking


I've been thinking about writing,
really writing, 
I'll use the knife to remove the white stubs
from the strawberries that I picked from the garden.
not just writing like this at night for five minutes,
poetry that no one reads,
except a few devoted friends,
but really writing.
It took years for the idea of a speckled blue countertop
to really gel even though I hated the stained yellow
formica from the 1950's.
It takes time.
I don't have time now, but I'll have time in the future.
I'll plant more strawberry plants and I won't have
to decide again on a counter top, I'll have time to write,
really write.
I've been thinking.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

what children and dogs teach us


the joy of innocence
of living in the present.
that still-warm waffles are the most delicious
thing in the universe until another treat wanders by.
Sitting, mostly, at a table for four, the boys
stuffed their mouths with waffles as fast
as their father brought them.  
children and dogs are food oriented
and mostly eat everything that's available
and tastes good.
a dog wags her tail, a kid falls off the chair.
once the food is gone, one of the boys
wanders out into the street crowded
with Saturday shoppers
until he's hauled back in by dad,
cheerfully.

Monday, May 22, 2017

the road to mastery

I will never reach a final destination but I am on the road.
For me, it's full of rocks, but there are flowers by the wayside,
their brilliant yellows and reds lure the bees and hummingbirds to feed.
I can stop to watch, to catch my breath.
a friend sent me a book called Mastery.
I am in Category 3, starting slowly and improving slowly,
tenacious with painfully slow progress,
I watch the sun rise and set thousands of times
with no progress on this road,
the stones are the same ones and the flowers
bloom and fade.
I remind myself that I am on the road and the
air moves about  me, smells drift by and the
minutae of changing scenery does  not require
much movement on my part.
I must simply keep trying, never give up.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

no place like home

no matter the licorice,
the breathtakingly
heartbrakingly beautiful landscapes,
the wine, the fish and the poffertjies,
there is no place like home,
a drawer of clean underwear and pajamas,
my own soft bed,
the flute that has not been played,
the empty refrigerator,
flattened plants from snow and
spindly tomatoes from cold.
they are still mine, the missed notes
and mismatched socks in the dresser.
there is no place like home
and no such wonder as finding
new licorice and chocolate in other
corners of the world.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

The last day


It's the last day in Holland 
Time to celebrate an excellent trip,
Looking forward to getting home to see how
The seeds have burst forth in my garden,
To pick up my flute and see the smile in 
My daughter's eyes.
We've had chocolate and herring,
Have ridden paths through forests and fields,
We have shared carafes of wine, and twin beds
With our own comforters,
Such delights, all.
And now, postcards written, suitcases packed,
We will get up early tomorrow and head home,
Home sweet home,
Always,
Home sweet home.