The thick fog, reluctant to lift,
rolled away
only for the chorus of colored leaves,
in one last sunlit day,
in one last warm breeze.
A single maple leaf
spiraled slowly to greet us,
a coracle swirling in a sea of sky.
We looked across the lake,
at the detritus,
the fragments,
fallen from the bluffs,
fallen among the color.
We rested and waited
for the great crescendo,
for the grand finale,
as an osprey sailed directly overhead.
I say goodbye to little shoes
unused for thirty years,
…they held feet
so small and new.
Feet with tiny toes that curled,
then grew.
Protected by these little shoes
they stood, then walked
and almost flew.
I say goodbye to little shoes
that held the precious feet
as people grew.
Grew to men and woman now
whose feet are fast
…on chosen paths.
Maybe it happens every day
A child who is three
dances so free
and I just don’t see….She danced all alone
in the mist with the breeze.
The music it moved her,
moved her like leaves
As she danced with the fire flies
in the light of the moon.We all saw her
as we danced to the tune.
We saw her so free
and we wept as we moved.
We saw where she was…
and wished we were there.She danced in the mist
and the music,
in the moonlight…
with the fireflies…
and I saw her.
The moon was full during the wedding reception/dance for my youngest son and his bride. There was a mist that hovered close to the ground as the evening stars came out. I watched children chase fireflies in the lawn. It was an amazing sight. So many spectacular things wrapped up in one evening. At one point I looked out on the dance floor and my three year old granddaughter was there dancing by herself. The light hit her as though there was a spotlight and she was oblivious to the people around her. She wasn’t performing, she was dancing inside the music- so I watched.
(September 2015)
So filled with grief
a cry of disbelief
“Why” the only question
Why now?
Why me?
Why us?
The answer ever fleeting
Maybe years in the seeing
Why ever?
Why now?
Why us?
The only answer in the present
is in the reaching…
stretching for…
the one who has shaken hands
……with grief.
Why Him?
Why them?
Why then?
Drawn to a changing question
for a changing landscape…
Needing people’s hospitality to this
emotion’s withering toll
…holding hope
…Or holding love
The storm is raging
The lightening streaks the sky
When the wind blows down
And the trees fly out of the way
When the water races forth to the sea
And crashes back on to the rocks
We are told to find the silver lining.
But what about the lining of gold…
