
As the day comes to a close,
the sky promises what man can not –
an end to the storm.
poems and images from daily living
As the day comes to a close,
the sky promises what man can not –
an end to the storm.
Misty air fills my lungs, uncoiling
my tightly controlled
expectations for the morning,
allowing
the rosy glow of sunrise to enter
creating space
creating newness
a rebirth of the day.
Weaving in and out
of the streetlight’s
glow, shapes of trees
appear
then sink back
into darkness.
The years of their standing
written in rings.
I am once again entering into the writing life by starting this new blog. It has been four years since leaving my first blog – “through the jelly jar”. During that time, big life changes have happened. My husband and I retired and we moved to a different area of the country. I walked with my dad through the last years of his life and witnessed his passing a year ago. After settling into a new home and starting the process of making new friends, COVID19 came along and put so many things on hold. This blog is a path to becoming more in touch with this new stage of life and marking the days in a meaningful way.
The creek lies deep in its bed
casting points of light skyward.
Motionless, the coyote
watches my slow advance, then turns
and drifts away, blending
into shadows.
I follow, walking past
an ancient hickory, its trunk hollowed.
I wonder at its strength to remain
standing, bark thick and ridged.
My time in this place is
just beginning. Tendrils of hope
rise to wisps of clouds.