It’s May,
the reason I haven’t come around to visit
or posted for almost two weeks
-my marathon month….the teeeeny tiny little window of time
during which I have to
dig a gazillion holes,
muster up good soil from red clay
and tuck in flowers and veggies and shrubs and trees
then a whole heap more flowers
for about a hundred really excited-to-have-it-done-yesterday folks;
and faster,  please.

It’s May,
the reason I grin at wildflowers winking from the roadside
living out their effortless dance.
They’re so easy to be with.

I’m a little too pooped to write;
just want to share their smiles with you
because really they have their own way of saying
and it’s all  too sweet and sacred
to bungle with words.

And to let you know I think of you as I make my gardens,
your beauty finds me even there
and whispers light and joy
and I hum your names to heaven
and smile inside where I carry you in my heart.

I’ll be back with something more again soon.
I’m almost in the short rows.

“The mere act of breathing is poetry in motion,
the art of life.
We are all artists
-our body is a brush,
the world is our canvas,
and life our painting.”

-Robert Taylor

Her goodbyes have been a long and steady stream,
husband,  siblings,  family and friends
…so many graveside goodbyes,
sitting small now in the yard,  wistful eyes tugging at memory
and searching the windows of Dolly’s house empty next door
still unsold and looking  painful hollow.

I listened to the homesick  sound her heart made
and clucked soft and pulled weeds from Dolly’s bed,  too,
so the lonely wouldn’t grow so tall
and filled Sara’s  bowl with attention and fresh water
and “I hear you” and “I care”
and made sure the flowers will sing her their sweetest songs

and packed up my tools and the wisdom
that is her gift to me,
this freshly fertilized choice to cherish
and I tuck it in close to heart as I drive away
and hear it deep down,
hear it clear and strong:
Appreciate
Show up.
Don’t waste this.

Life is shorter than our busy days can make it seem.
Be here now.

“To live in this world,  you must be able to do three things.
To love what is mortal,  to hold it against your bones
knowing your own life depends on it,
and when the time comes to let it go,
let it go.”

-Mary Oliver

I’ve been pruning and planting till my bones whimper at night
but the quiet gets loud enough for me to hear
when I’m down there working busy with my hands
while my heart thumps out an easy healing rhythm
and it lights me up,  the love raining down

and it goes rolling like a river,
rolling through all the crazy-making pain that comes along
with living on this planet,
even the small stuff that squirms ugly
like the strange little worms dropping from the trees
that dangle creepy in my hair
and I can’t shake them off so my glove swipes awkward
and I wear their slime on my face
and it smells broken
and my heart nods how the stink is true

but the song rolls on truer, spilling down balm
until it’s beauty slices right through the muck
like powerful incense
and the sweetest fountain I know
catches my heart up into it’s music
and there is peace like a river
even.
so.

"Only reckless confidence in a Source greater than ourselves

can empower us to forgive the wounds inflicted by others."

-Brennan Manning

Sending love to Boston,   to each of you,
and releasing a river of peace
come  a’rolling  to wherever you be

There’s a river of glad in these petals,
deep veins of song,
and I’m rich because of their music,
how they swirl their poetry generous over my eyes
till my spirit is humming along

about how sweet the way of seasons,
of sunshine and shadow,
and their joy invites me lean in close
and listen to their lasts,
like wise ones so full of living,  at the end,
who murmer grateful about how faithful the love
that kept them,

how wasteful the rush,
how needless the worry,
how glad for even the hard wind blowing
that gave them their chutzpa
and stirred their muchness bright,
their colors twirling praise
for the grace that walks them home

and as their song trickles down peace,
I catch a glimpse of the old woman of me,
many years from now,
her seasoned eyes shining with the memory
of my still-to-come,
humming that it had been good to be,
that there had been nothing to fear,
God had had this all along,

and this journey,  every second of it mine,
not to strive,
but to enjoy.

This post is available in my etsy shop (on the sidebar),
poured out in art
on prints bound with simple twine
to gift or display.
There are several there now to choose from
(and a batch in the oven- so. much. fun)

I drew two names from the pot
for the giveaway
(huge thanks for all of those wonderful suggestions
~holding them close to heart and marinating)

it’s joy to send a bundle to
Kathy of Paper Pumpkin
and
Lee Ann of Encouragement is Contageous

Big thanks for the kindness and  support.
With all my heart I love you all.

Can I show you what I’ve been up to?
For a long while I’ve wished for a way I could share
these heartcries and hopesongs as a gift
I could place in someone’s hands,
a sort of book only without the thump,
nothing long or heavy or traditional,
just pages that my words can leap from
and with big,  dazzling color that sings
and still I dance with that dream
but the cost seems like madness

so I keep making these chunks to pass around like brownies
because it stirs my joy
and have a few so far,  these riversongs,  to gift and share
and that makes me ridiculously glad,
each little pod of art on heavy card stock
bound with simple twine
and a little piece of my heart.
I put this one in my etsy shop to see if  the breezes stir.

Tell me what you think,  would you?
Do you think something  I’ve written here on my blog,
crafted into art,
would be an interesting gift for others to give?

I’d appreciate hearing what you think about what I’ve got cooking.
I’m thinking you could suggest a tweak here or some spice there.

Even if it’s only for my own gift-giving,
it’s pure  joy to take the bits and pieces of my life,
recycled bits of art and nubs of pastels and squirts of paint
and doodles and daydreams and mix them into new and colorful jams
to help pour out my love.

If you’ll leave me a helpful comment or suggestion,
I’d love to draw a name or two and send this gift your way.
(happy shiver every time I gift one!)

I’ll announce the winner next week
and have several to choose from.

(glad sigh)