First snow

Watching the snow fly

swift like feathers

from my second story window

blowing eastward

then westward

like someone blowing dust

off the coffee table

white cloak gently covering

uneven ground, grass mistaken

for sidewalks, roads mistaken

for grass, and I am safely tucked

in my bedroom gazing

at the wonderment

of the first winter's snow.

12-12-2010

I know we are well into winter and we have had many snows since the first one, but I was thinking about this today and thought I would post it.  I remember when I was younger and greeted snow with joy, yearning to be the first one to create footprints in the pure white.  There was tobogganing, sleding, and snowmen. Now,when I think of snow my first thought is, "oh no! I have to drive in it and shovel it, and deal with the cold."  Funny how we lose sight of the simple things as we grow older, isn't it?

Insomnia

Sleep is long in coming

even though I lay, my weary body

as a sacrifice, to her feet;

she refuses to embrace me.

She teases –

like a leaf caught in wind dance

or like the butterfly driven

by the sweet scent of nectar

on a flower, she cannot reach.

 Dreams, misconstrued demand

attention, clanging in discord,

in my mind, unable to be captured

or silenced.

And though the day is long

he does not release me into

night’s bosom, but instead

plays fragmented images of

mistrust, doubt, into the

shadowed recesses of my

aching heart.

Long past the witching hour-

long after the moon is cast

from its pinnacle in the sky,

beyond the early traces of dawn

peering around the curtain of night,

sleep remains illusive,

and I am fearful of

the new morning.

Do you ever feel like

1000  Poems

I shall write a thousand poems –

Some for the dawn of springs embrace

Some for the music of summers grace

Some for the dance of autumn leaf

Some for the release of winter’s grief.

I shall write a thousand poems –

Some for the love I never felt

Some for the blows that life has dealt

Some for the rising of distant hope

Some for the strength found to help me cope.

I shall write a thousand poems –

Some for songs written but never sung

Some for the ages beneath the sun

Some for the shadows upon the moon

Some for the life that ends too soon.

I shall write a thousand poems –

Some for me to leave behind

Some for that lonely soul I find

Some with words that are still unspoken

And some for the heart that is still unbroken.

If you were going to write a poem, what would you write about? Or is there a poem that someone else has written that speaks to you? or a song? or a story?  There is a saying that "a picture speaks a thousand words," but a poem can speak volumes in a few lines. There is a ton of emotion there. If you read the biographies of most of the most famous poets you will see that there is always deep angst or emotion or tragedy or even joy; something that has sparked a fire in the deepest part of the soul. For me, to write is to live. Even my journal entries, which will probably never be seen by another human eye, gives me a life line to something or Someone that is far beyond myself. For me specifically? Jesus Christ, the giver of life.

A spring thunderstorm --

Rushing water --

The first sound of bird song --

Wind blowing through the trees --

Children playing --

Frogs in the pond --

Night sounds --

Long lonesome whistle of a distant train --

These are the melodies of silence.

A deep breath to take in the air after the rain --

First scent of lilacs --

Misty fragrance of a wooded path --

Damp autumn leaves --

Fresh cut hay --

This is the sweetest perfume.

Soft moss for a bed --

Leaves for a pillow --

Mud squishing through toes --

Warm summer  grass --

Early spring morning --

These are the weavings of the finest fabric.

Fresh strawberries --

Homemade ice cream ---

Corn on the cob --

Biggest, ripest tomato EVER --

First bite into a soft peach --

Jam from homegrown grapes--

On Grandma's home baked bread--

This is the purest delicacy. 

Think about the things that are dear to you from your present or from your past and how they affect your life today. Sometimes we do not know how much we have been influenced by something from the past, be it good or bad, until there is a memory flash or an event that sparks it. Then suddenly we are overwhelmed by the things of the past that seem to crash in like waves against the shore of our memories. Just a smell or a snippet of color or a glimpse of something can open up your mind to the panorama of your past.