blowing grateful bubbles….

April 7, 2012 By 22 Comments

bobbing to the surface now
after being rolled by a rogue wave of fatigue
that seized and slammed me low
spinning  me dizzy,
whitewater pressing down heavy,
slow panic setting in

when the tumbling tossed me a memory
….little girl me standing in the breakers
full face to the foam,
arms stretched wide
and waiting to be  swept up and under.

I LIKED being scooped up
and tossed into tumble,
rolling like an otter and delivered to the shore
laughing with the freedom of it all.

And so again I’m letting go,
relaxing into the shoreline roll
and coming up laughing,
still sputtering and blowing grateful bubbles for the wonder of:

~these dandy little drops of Vitamin D
…..turned my vicious little heart attacks of a hot flash
into warm flushes.
hormonal happiness!
(big thanks to Kathy of Paper Pumpkin for her gem of advice!).

~raw honey, new breeze,  fresh whispers and busy angels,

~loving comfort singing my name,
gathering the pieces that I am
and putting them back together in all the right order

and even when it’s not all right,
it’s alright.

“The world is all gates,  all opportunities,
all strings of tension waiting to be struck.”
R.W. Emerson

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just this….

March 31, 2012 By 30 Comments


Today,
it’s just this.

Everything about me needs rest.

I’m going to choose to believe
that this is enough.

I send you love
and tired hugs.

 

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magical mystery tour….

March 23, 2012 By 40 Comments

Hope happening
as I join my bliss with  Liv’s ,
my heart thumping grateful for a week of wonder,

of

~daytripping west with my bestest
where orchards in blossom hugged mountainsides bursting with newborn green.

~waiting in Dr. office,  a very old gentleman shuffled out the door
and began singing loudly in the lobby,
belting it out beneath tufts of whispy white hair
and a sudden hopeful magic settled over everyone like mist.

~diving deep into my trueness
and living from my coolest,  freshest waters
instead of slugging through the muddy shallows of shoulds.

~body growing lean and strong with digging soil
and walking slow and long.

~leaves flushed out on trees and again they sing,
everywhere rustling with melody
and I rest back soft against the music and look up into the song.

~the happy rush of making and leaving bites of art,
tokens of love
for just that someone to find,
releasing them like ladybugs
to work their gladness.

~even when the strong one tumbles from ladder,
ankle fractures,
dog squirts vile and stains floor,
checks and bills collide and brawl,
and pain screams sharp and overheats,
I can still shake free the heaviness,

and say my “yes” to this magical mystery tour
and travel these wild roads with my tender guide,
instead of brow furrowed,  eyes strained,
soul breaking out in hives
over some mapquest version
of this life that is mine.

And I’m okay with backroads
with rest and take it slow
and take the long way when I can
and let my spirit flow.

“Love said to me  “I know a song.  Would you like to hear it?
and laughter came from every brick in the street
and from every pore in the sky.

After a night of prayer,  He changed my life when He said
‘Enjoy me’. “

-Teresa of Avila

 

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Thirty three Springs….the love and ache.

March 16, 2012 By 39 Comments

Saint Patrick’s Day 1979
Daffodils bloomed,
breezes turned balmy
and I pulled off shoes,
letting swollen feet tramp across warming earth.
I was pregnant with my first baby….due today.
For weeks I had ached for time to stop,
squeezing myself shut to the coming contractions
and separation,
“relinquish” hanging heavy on my heart.

But today the weather turned,
hadn’t everything somehow changed?
Spring had come with her own dreamy wildness
and waves to ride far beyond the looming loss.

I spent the day sunsoaking
watching the wind gently rock the tire swing I’d played in
not so long ago.

I was newly seventeen,
an unwed mother
with an unwanted chore:
to give my baby to someone who could be what she deserved.
Soon she would come apart from me,
 gone before the leaves flushed out.
Their buds were fat and ready to pop
….like me.
I went quiet with the knowing.


But this day was vivid lovely and it got inside me.

As the sun began to dip low,  a painful storm struck
and hammered down urgency inside my belly,
as grownup voices
began herding me into the night
and toward the hospital.
I couldn’t do this.
It was bedtime and I wanted to crawl under the covers
and cradle the life inside me again.

My body betrayed me,
forcing me into a cold sterile world of tight lips and disapproving eyes.
As my frightened parents gathered my things,
I lunged back inside for just one last moment alone
with the tiny life that had shaken my own with her gentle worth.
I lowered my frame heavy onto bed….sing a last lullaby
but found only tears,
a fragile goodbye.

I followed strong contractions into the night,
returning  home with only fierce memory
of her tiny fingers and face.
But I’m forever marked by her essence,
often swept away by the melody
as it drifts across my heartstrings.

I recognize her song.

Thirty three Springs of her beautiful life
and I honor each of her days.
Today I tenderly comfort the girl who carried her before
she was transplanted into the garden
where she grew and thrived,
those shimmery days when we were just us,
when she was still mine.

(thanks so much for reading along and letting me share this part of my heart with you.)

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wild winds and work gloves…

March 10, 2012 By 31 Comments

Grace found me this week wearing work gloves,
while my heart  wore soft bright  frocks
and twirled beneath the pear blossoms
listening hopeful for tender whispers
and watching for signs of love.

And always they came
dressed as long slow rambles with the dogs,
provision wrapped in surprise,
muscles worked strong and stretched smooth by sure hands,
flowers plunked smiling into cans
and  banana popsicles easing the weary from long afternoons.

And I arranged the days to make space for ballet,
to let my body remember the childhood motion
because it is joy
without the rush and urgency,
without the pressure to perform it perfectly
and this is kneading knots of ancient worry
from  places where I stored it long ago.

And grace rolled over me,
as work gloves drying on the clothesline
fluttered with wild windy bluster
and my tired eyes settled on the motion
and caught the kiss that heaven blew
as  breezes billowed beneath the gloves,
raising one,  fingertips to sky,
a graceful ballerina hand lifted high

and how the leather tough wrapping of circumstances
can’t hold down what fills the skin and bones of me,

palms up and letting go,

I am still free.

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