Pursuit

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dreams surround a homesteading such as this,
no amount of work could persuade them to leave.
his heart was given so long ago, and the farm has held on ever since.

the birds sang quite rightly the day she pulled in,
the tire was giving her fits.
when he took his cap off and extended his hand,
his eyes caused hers to lift, amused by the pink shade of shy she wore with her smile, he let off on his farmer’s tight grip.

hard became harder as sunsets created do-overs, and laughter filled the crisp winter air.
facts remained, but pleasure pursued as two strangers became one another,
encouraging life to come tumbling after.

If You’ll Allow It

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You can hear the sound of this machine working
– you know you can –
if you’re as old as me,
and grew up in a small Midwestern town,
she was an occasional reality.
We heard about newfangled ways of serving others,
but what we had was good enough.
We understood how to fix her, simple trial and error,
no fuss or awkward searching – some days a little pat on the bottom, or the sweet whisper of, “come on baby” and she’d spring to life.
I smile because she was a dinosaur in the 80s,
yet we were proud.
Seems there is still plenty of good happening right here,
if you’ll allow it.

An Entire World Awaits

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what is time without a watchful eye,
til color fades, we mustn’t
gray tones allow hope
say it is so, dear one.
how is it my hands feel the road and its bumps,
while tires roll atop –
proof we’ve been here before
and what a journey it was.
clouds become pillows,
for murmurs under the sheets,
and the rain in the distance
a melody I remember and
cherish, please believe.
today is full of beauty, I smirk
yet again.
passionate in the ordinary I shall remain,
and glimpses of tomorrows
shall nudge me forward,
across the plains.

Spirit of the Day

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the concern within my eyes –
twilight assumes as its own,
my faith breathes.
gone is nearly today, as dust billows
life continues, work sets the pace
the echoes of yesterday
further behind, as tomorrow
eagery awaits.
Cicadas joyful within the trees,
remembering to honor those
before the sun sets,
pups howl against the breeze.
Light, use your glow,
dusk determines goodnight –
we’ll pause – alongside the tea kettle.
The future, only God knows, yet I whisper ideas as
the spirit of the day settles.

In Her Nature

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*cardinal calling “here, here”
*cardinal calling “here, here”

Me: I hear you.
*cardinal calling “here, here”
*cardinal calling “here, here”

Me: Where are you?
*standing outside looking up about to get into the car*

*cardinal calling “here, here”
*cardinal calling “here, here”

Me: There you are up in my tree!
*two cardinals fly away happily*

Me: I see you! *calling out in a squeal*

My Young Redhead: *exasperated, yet looking*
Momma, they aren’t five year olds!?!

Me: *sighs* I sounded like Snow White, didn’t I?

My Young Redhead: *giggles*
No, just you being you, Momma

Me: *smiles* Not so bad, is it?

…and our eyes continued to shine.

Belonging

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A smile, the product of overwhelming acceptance.
Crazy how writing a sentence can be the cause of tears.
Is wanting such a simple human response proof of a wandering spirit in search of connection?

A place to belong,
Echoes inside of me,
awakens at dawn.

Genuine acknowledgment in a situation played out before ours eyes,
should not be controlled.
Why deny the person across from you the gift of worth?
My smile is yours.