Timeless treasure,
treasured within progression,
progress the masses approved,
approving both to live simultaneously yet differently,
differs from what is reported,
reportedly, we wouldn’t possibly get along,
alongside one another,
anotherly.
– Learning –
a collection of photos and poems.
at first, the logistics were tricky,
a desire for distance was universal,
a commonality existed,
so they leaned into progression.
structure set by those well informed, and steadfast,
support deemed imperative,
while overwhelmingly consistent,
whispers of beauty were allowed.
a common goal set, the trajectory – forever,
for some.
– Learning –
a collection of photos and poems.
grounded faithfully
focused beyond symbolism
What? Who? Over where?
***
– Learning –
a collection of photos and poems.
Goodnight, Day
as simple as it seems,
nothing could have prepared us,
we’ve heard and we’ve seen,
how life gives, and we take for granted,
our daily routine.
The world appears different now and gravity settles in,
weighty, and morning merely hours ago,
city lights slowly turning on,
soon our capital’s night will show,
function becoming imperative, however,
’tis custom for nature to start the glow.
– Learning –
a collection of photos and poems.
Imagine being adored.
Go ahead.
Did you smile?
I did.
Can you believe it to be true?
It was and is still.
The opportunity fades away for some, yet, for you –
timeless.
Will always be so.
Beloved.
– Learning –
a collection of photos and poems.
Rain was in the forecast all week for Saturday. Nothing would have kept us from our twenty mile day, unless our beloved rule enforcers said, “No, you’re not allowed today.”
The memorials were at the top of the week’s list. Armed with an umbrella, rain coat and waterproof clothing we left the hotel on foot like adventurers. Every measure was taken, so disappointment wouldn’t take lead, in a journey surrounded by opportunities to dread every step. Another day of adding images to everyone else’s travel stories. Damp and cold air caused affirming giggles as the first few blocks were defeated. Wet. Wet. Wet.
Rain fell upon those who looked for family names. Vietnam heros one by one and rising as we walked along the site. Many familiar names were read, piecing a name with someone from back home. Heroes. At the pinnacle, the water on my face was indistinguishable between rain drops and tears. The gravity of our country’s loss felt upon my chest. Realizing the Larrys, Garys, and Kennys of mine could have easily been on this wall, yet they weren’t, but these men were…
Prepared to stay
Believing in born ready
Tremendous loss here
The only story I can share of my grandfather, a man my mother never got to know because she was a child when he left for war, was in paperwork from years, an entire life really, of VA hospital stays. “He” continues to escape, traveling hundreds of miles, and writing letters to locate his children. Found again in Kansas searching for his young children. His war afflictions resulted in foster care for children after their mother abandoned them. War wounded, schizophrenic, possibly, yet found daily, while hospitalized, in a small closet writing detailed notes to General MacArthur. A full life given, yet no peace found.
Korean War Vet
Stolen By The Aftermath
Grandfather Wallace
– Learning –
a collection of photos and poems.
Walking along neighborhoods,
nestled deeply into images of city life,
I found softness, and vibrancy.
Murmured pastels, somehow unafraid to show themselves,
and wide open.
Droves of minds walk right past their gumption.
Faces stuck to their iPhone.
My soul wept.
– Learning –
A collection of poetry and photos
metro employment
focused on multiple grids
stopping exploits change
While on my own, I rediscovered
pieces of who I am.
My heart leapt,
my soul weakened in reverence,
towards a pursuit, I’d maybe forgotten,
or possibly, extinguished
even discarded because I was different.
Small moments,
where,
I proved to be –
a someone. Found,
amongst many.
I saw you, too.
– Learning –
a collection of photos and poems.
With a path laid out before us, chosen,
and for us to decide, we wrestle.
Life tugs us left and then right.
Experience breeds new thoughts; opportunities abound.
We touch, and its impact changes us.
What is is as hard as concrete, yet many believe in its fluidity. Leaving many to question reality.
Challenging our spirit.
Does life call us, or do we call upon life?
The beauty, I believe, settles upon how well we listen.
-Learning-
a collection of photos and poems.
Humility overwhelms women like me.
When the feeling arises,
power and heat settle on my cheekbones,
a blushing arrives, and they’ll all know it.
My eyes weaken and bashfully divert theirs.
Kick a rock and draw a heart with my toe,
as I take in the moment.
Jointure –
And then, when I, Momma, regain composure,
I’m fiercely proud looking toward my son’s window.
I ponder what he has learned here and if he will use it for good. Always.
– Learning –
a collection of photos and poems
There is a saying on my phone’s lock screen which reads:
Have you seen today’s beauty?
It was put there years ago by a friend. Probably my best friend.
I wondered if I’d see beauty in D.C.
A city full of concrete and noise,
I considered rock concerts from my past,
welcome to the jungle.
I imagined where everyone who accompanied
and passed me down the sidewalk, was going.
I read their faces as best I could. I thought I’d see stress, overload, and even concern. I did.
But I also saw joy, friendship, health, and love amongst the lights and stone.
I must have questioned if I would …
The sky was blue most days, what’s not to celebrate?
People find companionship with one another over similarities,
the obvious return is doing life together.
Accepting what our hearts and bodies need is universal, and so we work to treat them well.
We’re more alike than we are different, I’m sure
someone important came up with the saying.
But we are different, and embracing this is key.
– Learning –
A collection of photos and poems from D.C.
My 50th birthday is here. I’ve a hard time believing it, but I’ve accepted its arrival. There isn’t much I need, rarely anything, but as birthdays do, they often introduce the question, and so I ponder the idea tonight.
Still nothing.
After a week in D.C. and time to breathe, I’ve come to the realization I need nothing, and for this, I am eternally grateful.
What I want is something entirely different. Those around me can not give me this this I want, so much more goes into it.
*** This This
This this I want isn’t found, it’s given.
This this I want isn’t fair, it’s surprising.
This this I want isn’t impractical, it’s the opposite of.
This this I want isn’t mine, and I’ve gotten used to this…
This this I want isn’t close, but it’s out there somewhere.
Law school decisions
East Coast versus the Midwest
Top ranked future
Eight years ago I packed up two children, our pug and a plant named Maxine. (a plant I received from friends in 1992 when my grandmother passed away) We moved from Texas to Nebraska in the middle of a divorce. We had nothing. Nothing. Later, finding out even the car I was left to drive away with by my ex-husband no longer had insurance – unbeknownst to me until after we arrived. So when I say nothing, I mean it.
I thought I’d hit rock bottom.
We lived with my brother and his family for 5 months as we waited for a rental property to become available. Until the divorce was final – we had to rent. Sadly, this home we finally found didn’t allow dogs.
My heart broke. The kids’ hearts broke.
My mother, who lived three hours from us, took Prince Oscar the pug into her home. He brightened her world right up as ours darkened even further.
Grateful Oscar had my mom and my mom him. I continue to feel as though I let him down by giving him away and not fighting harder to find a place for him too.
Today, Prince Oscar went to heaven.
I don’t know that I deserve to grieve.
Yet, I do.
I love you, Oscar. My Pug Prince.
2024
I took a drive a couple of days ago. I was in the mood for nostalgia. Snow days had come up in about every conversation I’d had in town, and I got to thinking. I thought about growing up on Hickory and wanted a picture of days gone by. Not sure why Hickory Street popped into my thoughts, but maybe it was the 16 inches of snow we received last week and the “squall” we’d experienced on Thursday. (Ya, think?!?)
Every child in the area had gone down this hill, which seemed bigger than it appears, if they were willing to hoof it from across the way. The “way” being the last and newest neighborhood on the edge of town. The hill spanned for about half a city block. The use of city to help describe a distance leaves me amused. Hickory was a gravel road. This hill, for all intents and purposes, was in the country.
A well traveled road it would seem to us at the time but short of the mailman, families up the road and man who lived further to the east it was a quiet route – not taken by many or at all on winter days. This allowed for tunnels, igloos and ramps to be built on and for the hill. Often times we’d trade in wet gloves for socks out of the clean laundry basket mom left sitting on the deep freeze. She’d hollar at us to use the old bread bags. The ones collected all year to wrap around mittens. In an instant handmade winter gear became water proof, but boy did it make packing snow difficult and an even slower process.
The hill taught friends, my siblings and I a lot about team work. Our creativity and manpower steamed forward by the hour. Nothing kept us from returning to a group project after lunch if our mothers would allow it.
My mind’s eye sees the hill and the narrow walkway at the top by the barbed wire fence. We’d created a walking path at the top in an effort to travel from one house to the other during non wintery months, and everyone knew it was there. It was handy. Back and forth we’d go all day long changing the location of play. It was a lot like a highway and we had created it all on our own. This path kept us safely off the road.
On snow days, we’d plop our sleds on to the path. It was there under the snow somewhere, and we would pile on with the nose headed south. Everyone gripping the friend’s legs behind them as a way to hold on we’dcount down 3 – 2 – 1 – .
And then down, we’d go.
directional pull
whitely season of splendor
brutal gut punch
Watching snow fall, not blow, but spill beautifully as if paid to do so by Hollywood, I find myself smiling. We could have prayed for years and never received this gorgeous day. Hours of complete enjoyment were ahead. We needed the moisture, and I knew we were finally seeing it, so contentment overwhelmed my heart.
I recalled a conversation about precisely how many feet of snow it would take for an inch of rainfall – yet I can’t for the life of me remember what the amount was, and so I giggle. Typical Audrey. I used to have people around to remember those details. I try not to allow any negative thoughts when I can’t recall useful data because this, some would see as irresponsible, is me. I’ll chalk it up to not necessary enough and move on with smirk across my lips.
I find pleasure scooping snow while snowflakes fall one after another, some bigger than others. Not a breeze to be found, curious how we don’t normally refer to the wind as a breeze in the wintertime, but somehow yesterday the lack of came to me as such, while I threw another scoop of white to my left. Life appearing so peaceful and possibly perfect.
While others wait to forge a path outside, I find serenity scampering about doing small things, all the while listening for nature to wake. Silly squirrel presses forward slowly and leaps for a nearby tree. I consider how useful a new bird feeder would have been this morning and silently scold myself for not making that a priority in September and all the months that followed. It appears I was successful in punishing myself, although I had no idea I would be doing so at the time. Kept from the enjoyment I find in watching for cardinals, but made a note to get a new one next time I was in town. We shall see.
I ponder the quiet outdoors and how well I can hear myself breathe. My mind is open to possibilities, and how easy life can is if we stop and just do what comes naturally. Maybe you find it nonsensical, but a winter storm energizes me. All my daily musts are replaced by the here and now – and I do so love living in the moment as there is less time to ponder the what ifs. My muscles are tender, yet my mind clear.
* Just some thoughts & a silly little picture of the before and after of yesterday’s snowfall. I adore how safe the green bush appears after the snow. One powerfully protected by the other, it seems. Love that.
either way, we’ve all learned
and it’s been a year.
Saffron and Amber reveal their dress,
I sit and wonder how it’s possible, Winter,
how beauty presents as a mess, yet is defined by the eye.
Dirt needs its rest, leave the weeds, even
a fixed tin roof allows for dry, so
let nature grow – haphazardly.
Disrobe the world, let them be,
focused on how to heal.
Honestly? He didn’t really need me.
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 