that's mrs. mediocrity to you

The first dragonfly of the year appeared in my garden last week, and posed for me while I snapped several photos. This weekend, at our jewelry show, a dragonfly flew into our tent and then couldn’t find its way back out until I had unzipped several sections and offered a bit of guidance. And then it was free.

I’m exhausted this morning. Hanging on like this dragonfly, still and ready to fly if necessary, but grateful for the brief rest. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the scent of roses and peonies drifts in through my studio window.

I’m trying hard not to be in a bad mood. The not being able to run is making me grumpy in more ways than I had anticipated. Or maybe it is just life making me grumpy. Or hormones. Or all the questions that keep buzzing around in my head. Questions that always flit away before I’ve read their answers.

I keep living the questions, buzzing around on them, with them, over them, under them. It makes me dizzy. When I stop for a moment, cling to something strong and steady, I see that the answers are never really hidden, they just move faster than I do. I only have to pause for a second to see several of them zooming by.

Just now, I’m going to let them go, without even trying to read them as they fly past. I’m going to enjoy this sunlight and soak up something that feels like wisdom, although it could just as easily be trepidation. I’m thinking it’s a good thing, in this life, to be stubborn. To hold on. To refuse to give up.

Learning to fly comes naturally for birds and dragonflies. Less so for humans. But I keep flapping away, all the while losing my balance, regaining my footing, fluttering and floating on breezes and happenstance.

Today, I’m going to walk. I’m going to sink into the gravity that anchors me and feel its pull. I’m going to enjoy the warmth of the earth beneath my feet.

And already, I feel light as a feather.

Funny how that works.

Isn’t it?

you can’t walk through fire until
you’ve sunk to your knees in the mud

or smell lavender promises
before brushing dirt from your lips

you won’t ever see sky
if you wear lost glasses

you’ll never talk to a bird
if you keep yourself grounded

you will always lack focus
if you ride through the mist

green will always be just a color
if you never lay down in the grass.

you can’t circumvent hope
if you wish to survive

or hold hands with a rock
when you seek all that’s tender

but you can talk to the wall
that has built its own tower

and form a ladder of change
that will grow with each breath.

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this post is part of one shot poetry wednesday

born just

five minutes

apart.

::

Tell me a story, sing me a song, whisper a secret, one of those ten you keep close to your heart. I promise not to tell, or raise my eyebrows, or even grin, I will just listen, absorb, resound.

It will be dark, and quiet, the only sound shall be your voice, your emotion, the deep resonating timbre of your voice, and this moment we are in, each breath we take, the sharp focus we once thought to be clarity.

Dance out your glory, raw and clumsy. Stumble and fall and laugh at the sky, that blanket you cannot escape, that blue eyed star-filled cosmic joke that holds every word you’ve ever spoken.

Hold your silence if it pleases you, but do not be afraid, this earth holds the tears of eternity, yours and hers, his and mine, every mother’s. Drown your sorrow in the ocean, hold a raindrop on
your tongue, let it wash you, clean you, clear you, absolve you.

Stand there whole and wet and cracked wide open.

Stand there.

Listen.

birds but no bees

blooms but no leaves

silence but no golden

wind but no breeze.

::

day with no break

night with no rest

music with no refrain

heart with no ache.

::

smile but no grin

harm but no foul

simple but not easy

loss but no win.

::

life,

she says,

life.

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this post is part of one shot poetry wednesday, for more, click here.

spinning
twirling
whirling

a life
i can make
no sense
of

should it be
this
difficult?

struggles
setbacks
in
decision

i want to be
a flower

my only
job
to grow.

.

.

this post is part of one shot wednesday, for more poetry, click here.

Seeds have been started, weeds have been pulled,
dead leaves have been gathered and raked.
Tiny patches of green are popping up all over,
daffodils, tulips, bleeding hearts, crocus.

Spring has finally put on her green party dress,
with no apologies for coming so late to the party.

I will forgive her, though,
and take care of all the preparations,
so that all she has to do is relax
and enjoy herself.

I can’t help it,
I’m just so happy
to see her.

Hindsight is 20/20. or at least that’s what they say. I am blind as a bat, no matter what direction I’m looking in.

I keep trying to focus on what’s right in front of me, and sometimes, I can actually do it.

Other times, no matter how hard I squint, everything stays just a little fuzzy around the edges.

The older I get, the faster life passes me by. Or the faster I pass it, I’m not sure which. It’s like the blur on the edges of a highway. I know something is there, but I can’t quite make out exactly what it is.

When I slow down to get a closer look, all I see is trash and weeds and dirty ditches.

But wait.

If I look just a little harder, take my time and notice the details,

I see a small blossom nestled in amongst the detritus.

And that’s what I’m looking for.

Always.

yesterday, driving home in late afternoon

ten deer made brazen by late winter hunger

dotted a snow-filled field.

ears pricked up as i passed,

but they were too hungry to stop eating,

too hungry to be wary.

::

i did not stop to take a picture,

did not want to disturb their forage.

but if i had, i would have told them

that i understand their hunger,

for i am just that hungry for the sun.

you write
when there are words,
and when there are none,
you wait.

it’s the silence that drives you mad,
despite its claim to necessary.

you run
when you are able,
and when your muscles fail,
you sit.

it is inertia that holds you hostage,
the resting that reclaims you.

you sob
when there are tears,
and when they’ve run their course,
you inhale.

it is the cleansing that keeps you whole,
a release to fix your broken.

you laugh
when there is joy,
and as the world reveals its soul,
you smile.

it is the hug you offer humanity
that gives you back your own.

you live
when there is life,
and with each breath,
you appreciate.

it is dawn that keeps you wondering,
as you watch the night unfold.

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this post is part of one shot wednesday