The emptiness of loss

Endings can be challenging— 

Especially when we look beyond the known 

But cannot see what happens next, 

Only the twisted remains of the hopes and needs 

That brought us to this point. 

How can we safely grieve what’s gone before 

When now feels like a prison 

And tomorrow has no name 

And holds no promise but the emptiness of loss?

A testament of faith

Each year, this pink house with its pink tree 

 Makes me smile as I drive by. 

And for all the 51 weeks that the tree isn’t pink, 

The house waits in anticipation of perfection, 

Offering its rosy cheeks 

 Through the gray and the rain 

As a testament of faith, knowing 

 Spring will come again.

Blushing madrona

My Madrona blushes rosily 

In the late evening sun, 

Her branches raised in ecstatic embrace, 

Welcoming the warmth and light.

Sunrise dreams

It’s such a gift, to awaken to the light,

 The daffodils, the dawn, 

The mountain in its gilded repose; 

To set aside, however briefly, 

The worries of the world and dream of peace.

Generosity

Imagine if all humans 

Were as generous as nature, 

Pouring their gifts into the world 

Without reservation, trusting against all odds 

That something, some day, might bear fruit; 

Sparing no effort in hopes that might be true.

Misleading assumptions

Things aren’t always what they seem, 

And assumptions based 

 On what we think we know 

Can be heart-breakingly misleading. 

“See something? Say something!” 

Is the slogan of a state under siege: 

See something? Look more closely, 

And look with an open heart: 

What you learn from looking might surprise you.

Welcoming spring

As we welcome the first daffodils of spring, 

Our hearts begin to soar 

At the thought of warmer days, and sunshine…

Seeing through the shadows

Wherever there is light 

There will be shadows. 

Our mission is to see through 

Our shadows to the truth that lies beneath, 

However troubling or awkward it might be.

Fed by the light

Fed by the light that shines on us, 

May we in turn bless and protect, 

 And guide the world 

With the light that shines through us.

Rosy smiles of dawn

After days of clouds, the sky clears again,

 Parting to reveal the mountain 

That hovers in the distance, 

Wreathed today in rosy smiles of dawn, 

As if to welcome spring.

Spring

Come sit with me 

Beneath the newly flowered tree, 

And linger while we wait for fruit to form 

And drop into our waiting hands and mouths 

Like truth, delivered from above; 

Manna from heaven sent 

To soothe our souls, so hungry for 

 Reminders that there’s hope, and life, and love 

Just waiting to rain down on all 

Who trust, and take the time to breathe 

The rosy scent of being.

Looking back at simpler times

How often, in our inflated inflatable lives, 

Do we look back and long for simpler times, 

When all we had, we needed, and could afford 

Were the bare necessities 

Essential to stay afloat:

 A sponge to clean, a bucket to bail, 

A rope to keep us safely tied, 

And oars to help move forward 

 When the time came to move on.

Gratitude

Some days, the gratitude is overwhelming: 

For the return of spring and sunlight; 

For the mountains and the sea; 

For all those who went before us, 

Building lighthouses to protect us, 

And manning them in the dark and storms; 

For the grass and sand beneath my feet, 

The friends who join us on this walk, 

And the raucous cries of the gulls — 

Breathe deep and drink the salted air 

Of gratefulness.

Subsistence

As I drive by this glorious view — 

This fence, this field, that barn, those trees,

 Those fabulous mountains —

 I wonder what it’s like to live off the land:

 Impoverished, but surrounded 

 By natural splendor; tied to and governed by 

The vicissitudes of nature and the territory 

 Even as its beauty feeds our souls. 

My father-in-law grew up on a farm like that, 

 And left as soon as he was able. 

How will our children, 

Genetically drawn to that way of life, 

Manage the internal push and pull 

Between the longing for a simpler existence 

 And the drive to succeed and survive?

Ignition

Yesterday, I noticed on our daily evening walk 

That the sun had finally worked her way 

Around again (I know: it’s not her movement 

But our own) to that corner of the sky 

Where we can watch her as she sets, 

And so I grabbed my camera 

And hurried to the corner of our lawn 

That’s best for viewing, 

 Only to arrive just as she slipped 

 Below the horizon, as if she were a teacher,

 Or an artist, or an angry politician,

 Igniting all the crowd of clouds or lives 

 Her bold light touched 

 Even as she disappeared from view.

Sprouting

At first, I was weirded out, 

To slice open this tomato

 (Which we left out on the counter because 

Our daughter says it’s wrong 

To put them in the fridge) 

And see what looked, at first glance, like worms. 

But then, upon realizing they were sprouts 

 (I’d never seen this before; have you?)

 It was like, ooh! Extra crunch! Extra nutrition! 

And so beautiful!

 I was torn between planting it and eating it, 

But eating won: it was delicious, 

And I like to think of all those sprouting seeds 

Sprouting inside me, like ideas, 

Like new growth, new opportunities for joy…

No hiding

There will, of course, be times, 

When it feels expedient 

 To hide who you really are 

And what you’re really thinking, 

But chances are you’re seen and known anyway. 

Perhaps it’s time to let us see 

The unique gift you were born to be.

Wake up!

I forgot to set the clocks ahead 

And almost missed a coffee date. And now, 

 When I should have been cooking dinner,

 I’m staring out the window as I type, 

Distracted by a first stray daffodil 

Glowing bright among the dried out stalks 

Of lavender and ferns. 

Watching as my winter lawn turns golden 

In the late afternoon, I wonder:

 It’s so bright outside. How did it get so late?

 Clearly the time has changed: 

 All nature sings Wake up!

Bridge people

Today I lift a song in praise of bridge people: 

Not just the visionaries and engineers 

 Who imagine, design, and build 

Connections that allow us access 

Across previously insurmountable barriers, 

But the individuals who choose to reach across 

And connect; who value collaboration,

 Communication, and community more 

Than their own beliefs and prejudices 

Or party affiliations; the ones who understand 

A multiplicity of perspectives can produce 

More effective and considerate solutions.

That sinking feeling

That sinking feeling, when you realize 

 You may have taken a wrong turn; 

That there’s no way back; that forward, 

 Though there’s no clear end in sight, 

Is your only possible option.

 Because the road before you is not well-traveled, 

And if anything goes wrong,

Rescue may be a remote possibility, 

It becomes a test of faith: 

Can you continue to trust 

That you were brought here for a reason; 

That you are always loved, 

 And never, ever, alone?

Reframing the past

Some wounds will always be there.

 Some losses are impossible to forget. 

And yet — time has a way of softening the edges; 

Of framing those traumatic events 

In ways that make them easier to bear— 

And sometimes even allowing them 

To feed and fuel new life.

Perfect imperfections

Nature — if we pay attention — 

Has a way of reminding us 

We don’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. 

The snow atop our heads 

 Need not be purely white, 

Our clothes and lives might be in disarray, 

The contrast between our intentions 

And our accomplishments almost glaring, 

Yet there’s something so appealing— 

Even lovable — in our perfect imperfections.

Adaptations

Ah, the contortions we go through 

 In our efforts, on the one hand, to fit in, 

And, on the other, to resist and to withstand 

The challenges and changes 

 Being tossed at us, like wind, 

Until we bend or break before the onslaught — 

And yet, there’s beauty 

In the twists and turns life takes along the way, 

And opportunities for growth in new directions: 

Whenever our perspective shifts, 

We have the chance to see and trace new paths.

The home in your heart

The invitation is always there: 

The steps are waiting for you to climb; 

The guarantee that you’ll be welcome,

 And have it — this home in your heart — 

All to yourself; a place where you will always find 

Rest, relief, and release; 

A shelter from whatever storms 

Are lurking in the clouds. 

Come inside. Sit. Breathe. 

And know that — here, at least — 

You will never be alone; you’ll always belong.

Managing transitions

That moment, 

When we know something has to change, 

But we also know we have to manage 

The transition very carefully, 

Lest we slip and slide off our chosen path, 

Headed for a crash. 

Full attention, total presence, hyper-awareness 

Are our survival tools — 

Not to mention a very gentle touch 

On both the brake and the accelerator…

Patience

Something about the way 

He waits so patiently in the marsh 

For dinner to appear stirs our hearts.

We, who’ve always gone after what we need, 

Now learn to wait, and let whatever’s coming 

Make its way into our lives 

While we wait, breathing and appreciating 

 Whatever joy we find in the moment.

Capturing the ribbon of light

Lured by the moon, 

I step into the darkness, 

Carefully making my way 

Across the pockmarked lawn 

To shelter beneath the tree at the edge of the cliff.

 Leaning into her trunk to hold my camera steady,

 I shoot, and shoot, and shoot again, 

Watching as the tiny bars march across my screen, 

Hoping to capture that ribbon of light 

Before the pale moon sinks behind a cloud 

Or into the sea.

Alone or together

Seeing this, 

This isolated home, 

Separated from community 

By the lake at its front 

And the mountains at its back,

 I think of CS Lewis and The Great Divorce, 

Where he arrives in Hell only to find 

Folks continuing to move farther and farther away 

 From each other.

 I know that tendency in myself— 

The longing for solitude — 

But at the same time I’m aware 

Of the great joy I find in human interactions.

 It’s one of our great challenges, isn’t it, 

To find a satisfactory balance 

Between the need to be alone 

And the joy of loving and being loved…

Make time to explore

There are paths that you may see 

On the way to somewhere else 

That look appealing, 

 But you’re too busy to pursue. 

When will you slow down enough 

To consider making time to explore? 

Who knows what marvelous options 

Might await you, just around the corner?

Unlocking doors

When young, life was about opening doors;

Unlocking new opportunities, 

Discovering new places to exert our gifts. 

But with age comes acceptance — 

Which might look like defeat — 

That there are some doors that will remain closed,

 Either because we’ve lost the urge 

 Or the power to break through them, 

Or because we have discovered that 

What gifts and strengths we have might be 

More productively — and easily — 

 Applied elsewhere; 

That time spent struggling with barriers 

 Might instead be spent creating, 

Teaching, or encouraging, 

 Or helping countless others to find the key…

Framing a life

Just as the suggestion of a frame 

Adds depth and appeal to a photo, 

So can gently framed boundaries 

Add richness to relationships, 

Reducing distractions and allowing us to focus 

On what we might be building 

 And where we might be going together.