free to mosey…


“It’s gonna be too late”
is a haggard-making lie.

How would it be
if we shake off the fear
of missing out,
of regret,
of coming up short
and trust ourselves instead
into the  slow,  unrushed flow
of showing up to the moments
as they come,

just  relax into the ramble
of our ride on down this river,
free to mosey,
poke and putter,
ease along
and saunter slow.

Really,  slowing down inside yourself
won’t cost you.
You’re free to choose your pace.

“Don’t move the way fear makes you move.
Move the way love makes you move.
Move the way joy makes you move.”

“It is a great art to saunter.”
H. D. Thoreau

I’ve loved sauntering through August with you:)

The certain slow of summer…

DSC09516editededitedIdling down now,
I’m pulling off onto summertime’s backroads
like the ladybug pausing on my shoelace
while garden chimes dangle their songs on the breeze
and my soul feels again the soft hum of an old classroom fan
ticking off the last long moments
until I could pull off my shoes for the season

and climb barefoot up my favorite tree,
peach in hand,
not quite juicy yet
but peach enough in June
to nibble away the fuzz,
savor the tart flesh
and save the pit for some shenanigans
when the time turned ripe
to drop it down below.


I loved those times high up in the trees
and how well their branches kept my secrets,
held my reveries,
and let the certain slow of summer unfold.

It’s the slow I remember the sweetest
and the season still sings me home
to that gentler rhythm
and somehow there comes an ease
and I stop flapping so hard
and soar a little more


My garden is a riot of color now,
each day a new blossom,
and it’s time to turn up the quiet,
and let my heart putter along barefoot,
summertime slow,
drifting on a warm easy song.

“Summertime and livin’ is easy”
-George and Ira Gershwin