Things I… NaPoWriMo #14

Here is a list of the things…

I love coffee, strong and black

I love sitting with my dog and my notebook early in the mornings

I love cinnamon

I love autumn

I love driving fast, in a car with manual transmission

I love sunsets, but everyone loves those, don’t they?

I love my family – do I even need to say that?

I love octopuses (yes, that’s the right plural form)

I love horses and cats and dogs and birds and most mammals

I love red wine and dark chocolate

I love elves and Hobbits and Dwarves

I love adventures and

I love staying home

I love campfires

I love thunderstorms, and snowstorms

I love grey, rainy days

I love sunny days

I love dragons

I love books and libraries and librarians (well, most of them)

I love kayaks

I love daybreak on the lake

I love paper and pens

I love lists with all the items are checked off

I love wildflowers

I love houseplants in terra cotta pots

I love trees, especially birch and maple

I love silver earrings

I love so many things in this world

I wonder, what do you love?

Flying – NaPoWriMo #9

When I was 11 I learned to fly.

That’s when I started

horseback riding

I was chubby

and not at all athletic

but I got on a horse

and I could FLY

There was nothing better.

I wasn’t a natural

I took lessons

I struggled to balance,

to post,

to keep my hands soft,

to keep heels down, eyes up

But somehow the struggles

on top of a horse

were challenges I wanted

Unlike the struggles

in gym class

to throw and hit a ball,

to climb a rope,

to run a mile,

that humiliated me

Because riding

I was never alone.

It was never them against me,

the horse with me.

It was us, and we could fly.

NaPoWriMo #6 – Road Trip!

Road trip!

Today I’m driving to Minnesota

to meet the girls,

if women in their 50s

can still be called girls.

But we will spend the weekend together

and act like girls,

a little. 

And then like therapists.

We will talk and laugh,

and maybe even cry.

We will walk and eat and

just be

together

for awhile.

Not very long,

but just long enough

to heal our souls.              

NaPoWriMo #5 – Wild Thing

I see my grandson

at two,

running wild,

his orange curls

bouncing with each step.

He jumps and runs and climbs

with so much energy

so much fierce joy.

And I wonder

when do we lose that?

The breakneck rush

into the world

excited to go

to do

to see

to experience?

When do we become cautions,

of people

of the world

of our own selves?

We learn to  

hedge our bets and

couch our opinions in qualifiers

so as not to upset anyone, anything.

We water down our desires,

expect less,

express less,

enjoy life less.

And how do we get it back?

That vibrant life,

that wild joy we all once had

A New Year’s Wish

"I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you'll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind."  -Neil Gaiman (and me)

NaPoWriMo – Day #29

Under my tongue
sits the world,
dissolving

slipping down
the back
of my throat

I can feel it
growing
within me

oceans roll
through my veins

leaves sprout
from my fingertips

deserts and prairies
bloom in my eyes
and we are radiant

Communicating with the Dead, in 55

I imagined
communicating with the dead
was shrouded
in mystery

But it’s not

It’s a note
in his handwriting
tucked into a favorite book

it’s the smell of
his closet

it’s the work gloves
still stiff with
the shape of his hands

Communication with the dead
is small, common
everyday

and
pretty much
one way

 

This is a 55 word version of a longer piece I’ve been noodling with for FF 55 hosted by Hedgewitch, with a tip of the hat to Galen.  Click on the link to go to her blog, Verse Escape, and join the fun!

Communicating with the Dead

I used to imagine
communicating with the dead
was a wispy, fine-spun thing
shrouded in mists and veils.
There must be darkness
and hands held around a table
and maybe chanting…
My eyes would most likely
roll back in my head
my body go rigid,
a voice would whisper
from somewhere beyond,
and we would all be left in a stupor
filled with awe and wonder.

But it’s not like that at all.
It’s a note
in his handwriting
tucked into a favorite book.
It’s someone mentioning her name;
maybe a story
you hadn’t heard before.
Or a story you’ve heard
a thousand times.
It’s junk mail
addressed to him,
asking for money or a vote
he can no longer give.
It’s the smell of her closet
for awhile.
It’s the work gloves you find
still stiff with the shape of his hands.

Communicating
with the dead
is small, common, everyday.
It can be soft and comfortable
or piercing.
It can come at any time.

The one drawback
to communicating with the dead
is that it’s pretty much
one way.

Wordless Thursday (oops) – Abby

Rumi Quote

Pale sunlight,
pale the wall.

Love moves away.
The light changes.

I need more grace
than I thought

-Rumi

 

I really will post my own words here one day, soon.  But until then I think these words are pretty cool.  I hope you do too.