chaos

it has been chaos for months now. 

since march.

i don’t think anyone really saw it coming although I know there had been research and articles it hadn’t been named yet.

It is now.

COVID 19 ... global pandemic.

I call it chaos because that is what has happened. 

around the world, even experts, not knowing and disagreeing on how to fight it, win against it.

so many deaths. 

such loss in life, jobs, homes.

i try to hold onto the littlest things now.

Beginning Again

I’ve been gone so long.

So much has changed and some things stay the same.

Lost in a newness that even years later I can’t find a way ... my way.

Maybe here I can explore again. 

blind belief

blind belief
I still wish I had this
it was so much easier
than this questioning
which plagues me

21 years

21 years ago you left
I still feel you near me
but the hurt and missing are sharp today
no one will ever take your place
I miss you mom

giggling

I smell of IcyHot today
the detriment of a very sore back
I happen to like the smell

the real me

I am such a contradiction that I am often left wondering,
 "Who is the real me?!"

three words

... nothing feels right

just three words on the screen
they said everything
and in an instant tears poured down
someone ... somewhere
understands

november prompt-a-day

from write alm

november 15

in my cup ...

november prompt-a-day

from write alm

november 14

life is fragile ...

my heart knows this.
yet, my mind, it keeps trying to pretend otherwise.
pretending i am instead invincible.
what life has thrown at me is not in fact what it is.
i need to admit the truth in that mind of mine.
before it is too late.

november prompt-a-day

from write alm

11/13/13

on my table ...

a wooden table which sits in my dining room ~

with a blue-checkered table runner that flows the length of the wooden table
with a fall arrangement in the middle
            a vase of pussy willows given to me by my bestest friend a few years ago
           2 dried ears of corn full of browns and reds and yellows
           some fall potpourri scattered
           a clear candlestick holder with the stub of a white candle melted in it
with a box of dryer sheets waiting to be taken down to the laundry room in the basement
with a mail flyer of advertisment for jc penny

~ surprisingly clear of the usual detris on this day

our first snow fall

lilacs

... a scent from heaven evoking memories and smiles

small things

breathing in deep the rich earthy smell of spring
two bright spots of yellow ~ yellow warblers
a nuthatch hanging upside down
a glass of refreshing water after exercising
beautiful serene pictures of a pond sent from a son
comforting songs compiled by a daughter on repeat
sustained and supporting calls from another daughter
forever Pooh from another son
the smell of fresh cut grass
never fail daily emails from the best friend ever no matter what
blessings

mourning dove

yesterday I heard a mourning dove call.
the call touched me in the deepest part of my heart and soul.
I understood it's language.
I just wish I knew what we both mean by it.

may snow

this morning I woke up to this ... with snow falling fast and furious.
it matched my mood on seeing it.
after all it is May 2 and just this weekend with sun shining, I was wearing short sleeves and flip flops.
and then I looked out. really looked.
it was mesmerizing as only falling snow can be.
so sitting here now wearing my snowmen turtleneck I watch and say a prayer for the delicate flowers.

reflections on a diagnosis of type 2 diabetes

While reading Janet Evanovich's, Explosive Eighteen, I came across these lines. They reflected other people's responses on hearing of my diagnosis and my own response to all of it right now:

"It could be a whole new you."

"I didn't want a new me. I still hadn't figured out the old me."

scattered dust

I have broken into many pieces
pieces which have been crushed to dust particles
and the wind has scattered that dust far and wide
is there no bringing those particles back to whole again?

memories

on this wintry spring day, when I long for the dance of a warmer spring,
I read this and somehow it felt appropriate ...

" .... memories - they are all the aged have. The young have hopes and dreams, while the old hold the remains of them in their hands and wonder what has happened to their lives."

The Gift of Rain
~ Tan Twan Eng

filling my beak

in a small moment
watching a sparrow on a branch in the tree through the window pane
twigs and fluff filling it's beak

i am reminded

it is time to fill my own beak
fill it with things
to create
make a nest for my ownself

with moments of rest
in between

my soul

"Understand, I am always trying to figure out
          what the soul is,
        and where hidden,
          and what shape ...

    I believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
             truly I know
      our part is not knowing,
   but looking, and touching, and loving ..."

                                                ~ Bone
                                                   Why I Wake Early
                                                    Mary Oliver