The weather affects me, whether I like it – or not. What else can truly tell me how to dress for the day? Anything but the weather itself is just someone else’s opinion. What else dictates whether I spend time outside? And if so, doing what? Playing an instrument? Riding a bike? Sledding? Only the weather can tell me; only the weather whethers the changing days.
Waking atmosphere
Bringing in the morning light
Wordless, shaping day.
My first Haibun (prose and Haiku) for
dVerse.
Prompted by
dVerse
The sorrow doesn’t hurt anymore.
The stabbing pain has gone.
I’m not wounded daily by your passing from this world.
But I feel it like a heavy weight
In my sad eyes,
A lump in my throat,
A burning in my chest,
A knot in my belly.
Sometimes I cry;
Always I remember.
It’s strange, what I miss most about you–
The things you taught me help me every day,
And I am left to wonder
What else you could have shared.
When I pull out my tools
To fix or build something,
My heart aches for your guiding hands,
Encouraging words,
The knowledge you gave me.
Someone else will teach me now,
But not the way you did.
And I will learn,
But from different people, in other times and places.
And my own hands will know the tools,
My heart will see the beauty in the fixed and newly created.
But right now they yearn for what they do not have.
And the laughter?
I can’t talk about that
Without crying.
I don’t even remember what you said.
I just know it was funny;
You always brought a smile to my lips,
A happy tear to my eyes,
A song to my heart.
I realize through the shifting sands of grief and time:
I still have this smile,
This happy tear,
The song you helped me write!
And I am glad!
I don’t always feel peaceful,
Yet I am at peace.
I am strong in the knowing
That you are here now,
As you always were
And ever shall be.
Yours is the Spirit of eternity,
The one that cradles and keeps me
As It still keeps you–
In a new form perhaps,
But no less present
Than when I could touch your hand and hear your voice.
You are the Light of the Ages,
The Love that turns this world,
The tides that move and remove.
You are life,
Abundant and free!
And you are here
In me.
–for Kenny
with the song,
Smilemaker
I didn’t know he was coming
Until it was too late to wonder
Whether I wanted him.
The ultrasound picture of a baby boy sealed the deal:
Yes, I wanted him.
I didn’t know it was time
Until it was too late to be afraid
And go anywhere else.
So, the bathtub was his birthplace,
And I was not afraid.
I didn’t know what would happen
Until it was too late to change
The court’s final decision.
Someone decided I should be the weekend mom,
And everything changed.
But I didn’t know it was time
Until it was too late to stop
Learning, writing, giving, moving.
I learn from others and myself;
I give my best in service to All.
So if something good comes out of it,
Is anything really a mistake?
Or just mistaken?
—
Written for the “mistakes” prompt at
dVerse.
I wasn’t going to post this, because it feels very personal. But it gives me courage to know I’m not the only one. My son, my divorce are not just mine; others have them and relate to them. Maybe this will help someone.
Breezing on their blissful, billowed sails,
“Small” boats remind us during life’s travails,
“Now buoy up! The blessings never fail!”
Weaving in the restless winds of change,
“Strong” seagulls bend with breezes in their range.
And woe to us, who find the weather strange!
—
My first Quadrille, written for
dVerse.
It’s not as breezy as it seems!
Mystical Strings 