Routine

Routine like so
many others,
a dinner out
at one of our
favorites.

We order
and chit-chat
and my eyes
drift out the large,
plate glass window
to a figure stretched
out on a bus stop bench.

Not unusual.
Waiting for a bus.
Tired after a days work
or school, or what have you.

A woman approaches,
finds something amiss.
A police car is now on
the scene.  Mr. Waiting
For a Bus has become
Mr. Dead on Arrival.

All this taken in while
waiting for my dinner.
Life continues.
Death doesn’t wait.

Brian Miller over at dVerse Poets encourages us to tell a story: http://dversepoets.com/2014/01/23/meetingthebar-bedtime-stories-tall-tales-the-art-of-story-telling/

Choices

Always choices
to be made,
left or right,
around or stay.
 
Can’t avoid,
can’t make
a mistake.
The ones
we choose
will bring us change.

At dVerse Poets today, Claudia inspires us to think upon changes and turns in our lives:  http://dversepoets.com/

Within My Grasp–Englyn Unodl Union

Within my grasp lies all and what may be
Unfettered soul survey
The world is my potter’s clay
To mold, fire…or toss away

Gay Resier Cannon introduces us to Susan Judd who shares the Welsh/Celtic Englyn forms for FormForAll tonight:  http://dversepoets.com/2012/10/11/formforall-englyn/

Divided

olden southern cemetery
shadows hide your inventory
ancient oaks dripping Spanish moss
I follow a path criss-crossing human glory
 
finding delicate offerings
decades lain enshrined from crying
loved ones long forgotten despair
crumbled headstones beyond repair…whispered sighing
 
some aren’t at peace where they lay
restless disquietude displays
crypts show signs of being disturbed
oh nerves, feeling so perturbed…bring calm I pray
 
be at rest, I do beseech thee
your life has ended, now you’re free
no longer confined to this side
only a thin veil does divide your touch from me

A prompt over at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads inspired me to try a Florette Form:  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/search/label/format%20challenge

Adding this to Poets United as well:  http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Healing

The layers are peeling

And my heart is healing

Because I’m willing to look

Unwavering at what’s afoot

My eyes are unflinching

I won’t look away

At even the darkest, shadowy

Places within

Healing takes place

When I acknowledge the truth

No pretending what I’m not

But embracing the facts

No deceiving myself

Shine a light on it all

The only way to peace

Is to live honestly


Wasteland

Desolation

Image by Kevin Labianco via Flickr

 

 

desolate wasteland

void of growth and expansion

life sprouts from ruins

 

 

 

Day Nineteen of Haiku Challenge:  http://pendownmythought.blogspot.com/

Laws of my Life

The laws of my life have mellowed with age

They no longer carry the same weight.

I don’t feel as if I must make a date

Or do a thing if I don’t feel like I must.

I more go along with the way that I feel

Rather than what someone may think about me.

I’m not as “rushed about” in my world as it is

For there is no rule in my day that says

I must get it all done to please another.

I have let go of many a regulatory directive

That no longer serves my purpose.

Each individual can choose their own  creed

Of how to govern their lawful or lawless lives.

 


 

Poetry Potluck:  Rules, Regulations and Laws

 

Being With the Dying

When my mother’s best friend, Katherine, became ill with stomach cancer, her daughter enlisted Katherine’s friends to be of support as she went through her chemotherapy treatment and subsequent recuperation.  Her daughter lived out of state and could not be with her day-to-day.

I had known Katherine my entire life.   She was one of the most positive, bright lights I had ever known.  Her daughter and I had spent much time together as children which included many hours  swimming in the beautiful lake that they lived on.  Katherine’s husband had died many years prior.

Her daughter was very organized and efficient with setting up people in shifts to take turns staying with Katherine during her illness.  Sometimes this included remaining overnight with her.  But Katherine had a very independent nature, even at age 87, and at times would insist that she was OK and send us home.  Her daughter had tried her best to convince Katherine to move to North Carolina and stay with her family, but Katherine always refused.  She had been there for over 50 years.  During one afternoon, she confided in me that she would never leave her beloved home on the lake.   The house had an enclosed porch that overlooked the water and we would sit out there for hours as we talked and relaxed.  Her eyes would occasionally scan the lake and she would comment on a bird that had caught her eye or an activity by a neighbor around the water’s edge.

We were able to share ourselves like never before.  She regaled me with all kinds of stories from her past and shared intimate feelings.  She told me she was totally at peace and was not fearful of death.  I felt somehow as if I were a vessel for her to pour her heart into and was so grateful that I could be of service to her in this way.

I marveled at her serenity during this difficult time.  There was no “battle”, just gentle, quiet acceptance and the allowing of what was.  She illustrated to me what it meant to live in the moment.  Her ease and even emotions were a gift to me as well. 

One day she tired as we had been sitting on the porch for quite some time and so we retired to her bedroom.  Climbing into her bed, I propped myself next to her as we watched television.  A short time later, as I noticed her eyes getting heavy, I told her I would leave and let her sleep.  Lowering myself down on the bed so I could look into her eyes, I held her hands in mine and told her how much I loved her.  She smiled at me with beaming love in her clear, sweet, blue eyes and told me how beautiful I was.  Tears pooled in my eyes as I realized, in that moment, what grace she possessed.

Katherine died quietly in her sleep with hospice in attendance several months after her diagnosis.  Her bedroom window open to the lake.

Step by Step…

Step by step I journey through this life,

climbing countless and steep mountains

of one foot after the other.

Only to stumble and go tumbling down

to come to the place of where I now rest.

Go on, go on,

keep up, keep up!

No matter the deep, depressive darkness

that may envelop me,

or the brilliant light of peaceful knowing,

I am be-coming…

one

step

at

a

time,

at the perfect pace.

Goodbye Dad, Or Is It Hello?

My Dad died about five years ago.  Four out of my five siblings and I were in attendance as well as our mother and a few other family members.

He wanted to come home from the hospital more than anything to spend his last moments there but he was feeling some apprehension.  Finally, after my mother gently told him, “Wade, you’re dying”, he agreed to be unhooked from life support and come home one last time.  Even still, his controlling personality was in fine form as he ordered us to make sure there was some Campbell’s tomato soup for him when he got there and to go get some puzzle books at the neighborhood Walgreens drugstore.

Hospice was there for support if we needed them.

He never ate that soup or did those puzzles.  He lasted about a day, and as one of my sisters and I happened to notice a change in his breathing, we quickly called everyone to his bedside as he drew his last breath.  We then held hands, said a prayer and chanted for his soul to be free of any earthly attachments.  It was something I’ll never forget.  It felt peaceful and natural.  I am proud of the “sendoff” we had for him.

However, I think he still may be hanging around.  Shortly after he died, I started having an interesting experience.  As I am laying down getting ready to go to sleep at night, I have the sensation that my cat has jumped on the bed and is walking across it; however, when I put the light on to remove her, (I don’t let her sleep in the bedroom at night) she is not there.  I have even spoken out loud to her in the darkness, knowing that she has hidden under the bed waiting for the light to go out before she leaps out, –“Sita, how did you get in here?”  It absolutely feels like there is something “pouncing” on the bed and then “stepping” across it. This has happened repeatedly to me, only and just as I am snuggling in to sleep at night.  I had a strong feeling that it was “Dad” when it started happening and I feel no fear during these episodes.

Now, having shared this with my Mom and brothers and sisters, I have found that two others are having the same exact experience.

Hi Dad!

Wightrabbit's Blog

Words and Pictures from my Kaboodle on The Isle of Wight

writing in north norfolk

Writer of children's literature, short stories and poetry

Lady Nyo's Weblog

A woman writer's blog with invitations to other writers

Poetry Breakfast

Beginning March 20th, 2016 Poetry Breakfast will once again serve a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry related creative non-fiction such as letters to and from poets, essays on poetry, and anything else that might feed a poet and poetry lover’s soul.

Mithai Mumblezz

Thinks and again mumbles!!

findingtimetowrite

Thinking, writing, thinking about writing...

mindlovemisery

"We're all out there, somewhere, waiting to happen."

NavasolaNature

Nature needs Nurture

Whimsygizmo's Blog

poetic ponderings...parenting...procrastination...

Tao of Scrumble

A freeform way of life, love and everything

Sharp Little Pencil

Amy Barlow Liberatore... stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz

silentlyheardonce

A Silent poet shouting to be heard

generaliregi

Romance of Five Clouds and Magical Poetry

kanzen sakura

South meets East: Poetry and Musings - words of the seasons

Poems, stories, paintings and more by Sharmishtha Basu

(Agnijaat, Agnishatdal, Agnijashatadalama, Indie Adda)

This, that and the other thing

Looking at life through writing and photography

jaywalking the moon

poetry by claudia schoenfeld

She's Writing

Poetry and Prose

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.

everyday amazing

spreading good cheer, fun & love for life

Michael's Lair

Just Write WordPress.com site

Björn Rudbergs writings

Poetry and fiction by a physicist from the dark side

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

THE BeZINE

Be inspired...Be creative...Be peace...Be

bardessdmdenton - author- artist

Historical and Literary Fiction / Essays / Poetry / Reviews /Book Cover and Interior Illustrations / Pet Portraits and Other Commissioned Artwork ... "Handle a book as a bee does a flower, extract its sweetness but do not damage it.” ~ John Muir, naturalist, author, 1838 - 1914

Soul Dipper

Spirit Builder by Design

Contemplative Moorings

The official blog of unofficial author Michael Marsters.

Ramblings From A Mum

This is my journey, my thoughts, my views, plain and simple and from my heart. Please travel with me and share, hopefully it will be an interesting trip.

bwthoughts

copyright 2013 - no reuse without permission ( see bwfiction.wordpress.com for fiction and fantasy )

"On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea"

All Is One With Our Creator

MyHeartBlog

Take Control of Your Health

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

Wanjiku

poetic inspiration from life's simplicity

k8edid

Mumblings of a Middle Aged Madwoman

IN MY NEXT LIFE

if I go around more than once then ...

I Rhyme Without Reason

I live in words

Soul Speak

'You may say I'm a Dreamer, but I'm not the only one' ~ John Lennon

~ Dragon's Dreams ~

Carpe Noctem Quod Tempus Fugit!

Dreamwalker's Sanctuary

A Sanctuary for Enlightenment and Peace through Poetry and Inspirational Thoughts as we go through Life

Lafemmeroar

laughing at the malfunction of the universe is better than crying about it

Lorna's Voice

Finding ways to make words sparkle

Olivia's In- Mind Whirls..

"It's all in my mind"

dVerse

Poets Pub

Leslie White

View artwork by Leslie White

%d bloggers like this: