Somewhere Beyond Serene

Posted on by

if the water could have sung,
I’d have heard it calling me,
drawn to its movement,
slow and consistent, I felt seen.
Instead of the arc of a rainbow in view,
colors swirled around twilight
as if they knew circles were
my favorite, and curves the most fun.
Nature’s beauty  spoke in only whispers,
requiring my heart to listen.
Rumi, INSPIRE – the ancients would plea,
but a woman like me,
lost between hope and regret,
will watch for you as the boats drift. Listening.
Waiting on timing, once again,
knowing somewhere beyond serene, you exist and I’m ready.

Search Me

Posted on by

I’ve been taught to listen to your voice. Your very presence surrounding. With guidance, truth will set me free. Impossibilities become belief, and fear – a season left behind me.

So shall joy find me in the morning dew, while visions shine across the cerulean sky, there’s no fleeing. Only a welcoming off the wings of dawn and it is precious, search me.

Today, be a guest, nature – object of The Creator – sit closer than ever before, logic can’t touch this, and its within Him we all find rest.

Aurora

Posted on by

Inside me lives a little girl:
giggly,
impatient and giddy,
over new.
New experiences, lit brilliantly across northern trails.
She, wide eyed, and with extreme expression,
has wished on every star,
counting them, 1, 2, 3,
will he find me?
Her neck exposed, eyes full of wonder,
up, up, and away.
The sky breaks, she no longer feels alone
color washes over her face,
darkness fades,
as night mirrors grace,
and light begins to dance.
Life comes alive, and her squeal echoes,
through the woods.
Look! Fingers pointing with urgency,
I see what she sees, and tears fall –
yet, fully aware of her inner whisper,
“Come with me…”
I sense my obligations.
Haunting.

Simplified

Posted on by

Funny thing about history,
what it is depends on the county, country and the weight of its gravity.
Feelings collide, as they
present themselves,
usually contrary to another –
and another’s, yet again: Tell me, are you family or friend.
Reaction brings emotion to life,
as news provides.
Hands clap with smiles smiling, tears fall or steam rolls,
hearts break while minds run wild
holding on to hope – like a child.


The past is full of firsts,
today we wonder are there any left?
Celebrate the ordinary, and be considered a fool. We should be forcing the extreme and the new! As the Preacher says, “Don’t look back. Keep moving forward.”
Watch me pitch a fit,
and shake my finger …
100 years ago – This pig, THIS pig….
he was a winner.
And Colorado had never looked better.

***

Haiku:

Yesterday’s Newspaper

What matters is all around

Life Simplified

***

Yours,

Audrey

I’m Her. She’s Me.

Posted on by

When I close my eyes,
a smile appears on my lips
I watch visions of a woman thriving, and I’m her. She’s me, and it’s soothing.
She’s scurrying from one task to the next,
I giggle because ten years ago, she’d never –
Clean corrosion off a battery,
while bread rises and raking leaves
in-between.

Sunday morning hair and makeup still sits where it was placed, dress hung back up and worship was great, closed up the church, now a warm sweatshirt hugs my skin,
boots on,
and my wranglers secured – I remember when…

Weatherproof the outdoor water spouts, and add additive to the leaf blower while squealing over spiders and a baby possum getting too close.
Where does time go?

Windows open allow the air to clean, the house has been awake for hours, the joys of November’s sixty degrees.

Bills are paid , money left over – room to breathe – who do I bless or what’s the need?

I hear a Blue jay trying to prove a point in the tree to the south. Memories are sweet, and I pray you’re proud.

Yet, the mower sits and I think of him – countless ways he offered to help. Seasons of growth and pain. Funny how life gives and takes away.

Life seems simpler now, even on days when struggle hits.
I keep praying God reveals what’s next, as I putter along, enjoying every breath.

Summer Fruits

Posted on by

Early summer grounds keeping…
We’ll bale hay another day,
there’s fish biting, and the sky’s blue,
I hear a voice inside me say.
Grass is still short over here, let’s sit and tell each other stories.
A cardinal calls from over yonder
seems simple, but they bring me to you.
Verdant pops over azure brilliantly as I lay down to stretch my back.
Wind will catch a branch, rhythmic in its timing, and life’s hectic pace slows, my breath less demanding.
Nourishment calms a craving, yet this fruit is barely listening.
And nothing, no, nothing is ever just perfect.
Who would want to exist that way…

Brothers

Posted on by

The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (Let me say, I’m fully aware I’ve done nothing to deserve the protection of these men and women. I hope not to insult with my words but to honor, possibly, and admit my shortcomings in being thankful for their service. Peace be to those who served. )

Ashamed of the details I’d forgotten,

Unnerved by the facts we aren’t taught,

Humbled by the dedication proven,

And the lives lost.

Passionate in prayer quietly watching,

Questioned how civilians give back,

Intrigued by the devotion to State,

Terrified for, and in awe of the forces they’ve reckoned with,

And grateful for every step these men take.

– Learning –  

a collection of photos and poems.

Jubilation

Posted on by

May 11, 1997

Mother’s Day
1997, a year of jubilation.
A son is born, he looks like his daddy,
offers annoyed looks like his grandpas,
and loves fiercely like his momma.

Family swarms, bluest of eyes smile
he wears Elmo, wants tractors
plays with cowboy Woody,
and completes with ZZ Top for coolest sunglasses.

Sat perfectly in our arms,
long limbs, this boy will be tall
best kisses given
he’d grow into the name Craig Paul

Aunts and Uncles learning, and playing house
first grandchild, those people are adoring,
offer mom and dad a chance to sneak out,
everyone making up for lost time and possible past failings

Growing appears tricky, doctors arrive
Time, we’re told, is on the tough side of fleeting,
quality of life, imperative,
Cockayne Syndrome stealing

With the right one, five years is never enough,
gift from God to teach us,
our minds swarm with lessons learned,
taking each day to move forward with many a celebration, he’s a big brother now, and his name is Mason.

Today, we remember the year 1997 as jubilation.

Structure

Posted on by

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.

Philosophy

Posted on by

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.

It Was Me

Posted on by

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.

Always, Love

Posted on by

Sometimes people don’t realize what they’ve been offered, is room to grow,

space to breathe, heal, try something new, make decisions, and even complete final drafts.

Care: It isn’t always a verb. ‘Tis also a noun. The provision towards what is necessary; to apply consideration to a situation to avoid further damage or risk.

The beauty in love – space to grow – is in the offer to step aside in hopes of growth succeeding. Knowing full well everything may change, and we no longer matter.

Trust is felt, and when it isn’t given in return, we sense the void – feel the lack of – quite like someone’s arms length we clung to for years knowing we shouldn’t.

Love is the color of amber, to me, quite like every color squeezing in together, without erasing one for another in hopes of a happy ending.

Healing

Posted on by

Our compassion comes from a place of empathy,
or at least it should.
Who are we if we don’t wish the very best for someone?
Trials greet us when we’re not  looking, sinking us  into new depths.
Gratitude overwhelms the healing pieces of us, and it is there we should bow.
Humbled.
Nature nurtures, realize this at the very least, smile and allow the comfort as it exhales its release.

Sense of Direction

Posted on by

The summer rain has painted fields of sunflowers
and the August breeze cools the brow.
67 degrees in the Sandhills, and nobody can explain how.

Wheat with a sense of adventure has been brushed in for effect,
and life gets interesting
just beyond the hills,
as I hear, “You haven’t been over there yet.”

Push past the state line, skys bluer than azure await,
there’s small horse towns ’bout every 8 miles,
and remember, “When you leave, shut the gate.”

Fuel isn’t getting any cheaper, and time waits for no one,
so dismiss all the reasons why one shouldn’t,
smell the damp dirt, allow it to slide through your fingers, let the wind send it.

Press the pedal on the right, bite your lip, and
appreciate the sound of your giggle,
the prairie weaves over and under –
everything beyond here matters,
and you’re not getting any younger.

Govern

Posted on by

the source:
reason for one’s distraction

out here beyond the familiar, I escape.
ponder what it must be like
to go and wander,
past where bridges lie, and
to a place my feet welcome;
a path unrecognizable to my soul.
my mind allowed freedom
as I see myself pushing back against a warm summer breeze.
nightfall is yet to be seen, yet the week is already before me.
stillness becomes evident, while the sky slowly burns across Midwestern hues.
I sense maybe you’re listening, so
I offer this plea –
challenge me, but don’t leave.