As the day comes to a close,
the sky promises what man can not –
an end to the storm.
compassion
pause
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.
night walk
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.
circling
marking the days
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.
nesting
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.
