Retirement....For Now Anyway

Haven't had much to write about lately, life's been getting in the way. I think I might take a short break for a while. Catch ya later!

Just Saying "Hi"

I realized I hadn't written anything in about a month. Hmmmm. Actually, I started a poem, but haven't figured out how to finish it yet. And I'm working on something else, but don't expect it to be done for at least a year, if not longer. So I just wanted to say hello.

An Interesting Phrase

For some reason, the phrase "just yesterday" sparked some kind of strange awareness in me and I started writing. The following words are not of my own experience, but of what I imagine might happen to a person who experiences a personal crisis. I'm not even sure why I'm posting this, but, hey, whatever, right?

Just Yesterday

Just last week I cancelled lunch with some old friends that
I hadn't seen since college because I had so much work to catch up on
That I couldn't spare an hour to renew our relationships and I knew I'd have
Another chance the next time they were in the area.

Just this past weekend I didn't go to church because I wanted to sleep
A little bit longer instead of dressing up to go and worship God and I
Missed seeing people who would have greeted me with a smile and a handshake
Or a hug, because Sunday is my only chance to get extra rest.

Just yesterday I trudged distractedly down the street with a scowl on my face
Hurrying to work or school or an appointment or a meeting
With no thought towards the day except to be frustrated
That it was raining and I'd forgotten my umbrella.

Just last night I was too busy doing laundry or cooking dinner or
Watching television to pay attention to my children when they tried to
Talk to me and I missed seeing their smiles and hearing their stories and they were
Sleeping before I slowed down enough to listen.

Just this morning I was so busy cursing and yelling when I burned my mouth
Drinking coffee that was too hot and then dropping the mug so that it shattered
On the floor that I ignored my spouse's words of comfort and walked away angry
Bruising his heart more than my tongue.

Just today I was told that the doctors couldn't help me and they were simply
Counting the days, hours, minutes I had remaining and I
Realized that all of those little things I had thought were so annoying were
Moments I wished I could have back.

And tomorrow? Just tomorrow, please let it be an instant, a day, a year, a lifetime
Where I can laugh, love, cry, worship, run, jump, sing, APPRECIATE
And wake up grateful for the experience because, who knows when it will be forgotton as
Just yesterday?

Book Review - "My Hands Came Away Red"

I just finished reading an interesting novel about the violence in Indonesia and how a fictional group of teenagers on a summer Chirstian mission trip survived through a tumultuous time. Very thought-provoking and definitely worth the read. Normally I'm a person who likes a good romance where the boy and girl get together at the end of the story and every thing is right with the world. This isn't that kind of story. But I'd definitely recommend it for anyone who likes an adventure that isn't necessarily happily-ever-after. If you have the time, or can make the time, this is a book that you shouldn't miss.

http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/results.asp?WRD=My+Hands+Came+Away+Red/

Life and Death

My grandmother died last Monday.
My sister is going to have a baby this coming Thursday.
I know that I'm not the first to have this thought, butit struck me as odd/interesting/strangely cyclical how the two most important events in human existence, birth and death, can be so closely intertwined and yet appear to be such polar opposites. Death, by its very nature is an ending. It is the last page of the book, the final credits rolling at the end of the movie. And rarely do any of us leaving the theatre feel that we have reached the actual end. How can the story end here? Isn't the author planning another installment? Didn't the director leave room for a sequel? Maybe that's where the baby's birth comes in. Not a sequel, per say, but more of a continuation of the same story. Perhaps with a different director or author - one trained by the antecedent and therefore prepared with the history of the family, ready to rear the child on stories of our familial past in order to ready him to face the future. And perhaps the joy of the impending birth will help to hasten the healing process for the rest of us. Perhaps this was God's way of telling us that it will be okay - life goes on and we should live in the joy of this new life while remembering and then passing on to the next generation the joy of the life that has so recently moved forward in her journey. Grandma would have been the last person to want us to weep over her passing - after the initial cry, of course - she'd be the first to tell us that she's with God and the rest of her family now, and will eventually see all of us, including the newest member of our lives. Then she'd say she has better things to do than listen to us blubber over something that we couldn't control. She'd tell us to buck up, move on and get on with living our lives. And she'd say it with a smile on her face and a cigarette in her hand, just as irreverent as always.

Life Questions (Rambles of the Moment)

Should I want to have/be/do more in my life? I'm a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) and feel really lucky that I had that option. I think it's a really important job and generally fulfilling, but occasionally I can't help but wonder if I should be trying to "have it all," as the saying goes. For me, when I was about to have my baby, it was an easy decision to quit working. Of course, I think that was probably because I didn't really enjoy my job. It was definitely not what I would consider a promising career. But being lazy and not wanting to spend another 3 or more years in school, not to mention however many thousands of dollars it would take to get a new education, I haven't yet heeded that occasional urge to wade back into an educational forum to learn something different. And it seems so difficult to try to start something new. Is that me just trying to talk myself out of it, or trying to defend the decision not to go after it? Was giving up a career, even one that I didn't enjoy, really a decision at all? Or was it just me falling into a place where a lack of direction, born out of sheer boredom and an unwillingness to reasses my life and what I wanted from it led me to take the easier path and do nothing?

So I'm over 30 and still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Sometimes I wonder if I'm living up to the potential that everyone used to say that I had. Sometimes I wonder if it's even still there, or if it has slowly seeped away and even if I tried I'd never be able to achieve....whatever it is/was I supposedly had the potential to achieve. Maybe I just haven't found that perfect situation yet and my potential is still there - lying dormant for now, waiting for that "aha!" moment when it will wake up, stretch, take a deep breath and realize that "Yes! This is what I'm supposed to do with the rest of my life!" I can't decide if I want that to happen at all, much less now or at some time in the future. Then again, why would I be thinking about it if I wasn't at some sort of crossroads, right? Hmmmm...maybe I just have too much time on my hands and should spend more time cleaning the house or getting the laundry done.

Untitled

I have no title for this. I can't seem to describe what this feels like to me.

Speak softly, whisper sweet,
soon dream of gold and silver stars.
Breathe slowly, breathe deep,
held close in warm and loving arms.
Murmer gently, release a sigh,
your troubles left outside the door.
Close your eyes, calm your mind,
here's respite from all cares and woe.
Prayers sincere, prayers of love,
lift to Glory on white-tipped wings.
Peace drifts in, Heaven waits above,
embrace the solace that it brings.
Accept your blessings, let faith abide,
share in His gifts, His Word, His might.
Believe His promise, stand at His side,
walk in His grace, shine with His light.

Sudden Inspiration

For some reason, I suddenly had the urge to write about an hour ago. It started out as an ode to my daughter, but then images started spilling out of my pen that had nothing to do with her and this is what I ended up with. I don't know why I suddenly felt the need to write about a color, of all things, but anyway, here it is...

Pink

Pink is soft, a gossamer kiss, a gentle breeze
and the first scent of Spring in bloom.
Pink is beginning, a fresh dawn and a cotton candy cloud
that promises happiness will follow soon.
Pink is a tentative brush of lips on skin, a question,
a hope that fuller color will hasten after.
Pink is the glow of first love, not fully awakened,
but flush in the anticipation of its own sweet laughter.
Pink is a blush, the petal of a rose still wet with dew
trembling, longing for the next velvet touch of fingertips.
Pink is a melody, faint and alluring, ambrosia for the heart
to be tasted and savored, drunk with eyes closed, in slow sips.
Pink is an indrawn breath of wonder, the start of the crescendo,
and the first footstep along temptation's hidden path.
Pink is the whisper, the secret delight when the stage has been set
and the story begins to unfold with a breathless gasp.
Pink is the hint of a hunger quietly contained, eager to be free
to escape its silken confinement, to fully mature at long last.
Pink is a waiting, pulsing heartbeat, poised on the edge of discovery,
sensing that life, wonder and fulfillment are almost in its grasp.

Oldie But Goodie

I haven't been feeling the itch to write in the past couple of weeks, but I have been thinking about poems by others that I really like. One of my favorites since high school is by Lord Byron. I think I liked it so much then because I was going through my first big faith commitment awakening. During high school I became very interested in religion in general and exploring my own faith in particular. Having been raised Christian, this poem spoke to my heart at the time. It stirs a little something in me now, too. I thought I'd share it.


The Destruction of Sennacherib

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
-- George Gordon, Lord Byron, 1815

The Journey

Walking through the door there was fear,
No, hesitation, not truly fear.
Was this too new, too much?
Could I do this? Should I?
Yes. I need the help, the support.
Others with the same need will understand.
Will be there to share the struggle.
They see, they know, they care.
Their hands are there to steady me on my way.
The journey, long or short, straight or crooked.
No matter, it must be done.
For happiness.
For health.
For life.
For ever.
Now is the time to start.

First Look

Eyes meet, unknowing
A secret glance?
Now, a steady gaze.
Movement, drawing near
Curiosity or desire?
Worth the risk
Drawing closer, closer
Then, a pause
A moment of hesitation.
Deep breath, resolve
Onward with a smile.
Now a touch, firm
But soft, a caress, a whisper of sensation
A light brush of fingertips on skin.
Pull away softly, reluctant to let go.
A laugh, another look
The quiet murmur of voices
Velvet tremors inside, burgeoning, hopeful.
Rush of excitement, joy, trepidation
Pull back, ease into it
Don’t rush.
A calm, steady breath
Start again.

Drama Queen?

Thinking about it, it seems that when I write I can't seem to go for simple and straightforward. Just reading the two most recent poems that I've written (these are my first attempts in several years) I go for the over-the-top dramatic. I don't know if it's a style thing or if I'm just really full of myself. Do you think maybe I should try writing something more clear and less metaphor-filled? Is the language I'm using too flowery,etc? Is the imagery evocative or just annoying? I'd love to hear any feedback/opinions on the matter. Thanks!

Rainy Day Musings

I wake in the stillness to a soft patter on the window as
Misty light steals quietly into the room and
The sound of his breath, soughing peacefully, slips over me
With the first blush of wakefulness slowly spinning into the quiet.

As I lay there breathing, just breathing
The rain comes down harder, the growing whisper a chill
Heralding the gray heart of this dawn
And a hint of the coming hours, the shadows of life yet to be.

The last kiss of silence is fading; the light grows stronger
And the heartbeat of time enters into my conciousness as
With a smile of wistful regret I open my eyes to
Push back the warm blanket of sleep and greet the day.

Though the rain veils the dappled promise of weak sunlight
Hidden now behind the gauzy mantle of winter's embrace
I look into the next moments with a soft smile
Knowing heat and light will come again
Richer, brighter, stronger
More welcome for this small moment of frosted time.

**I have been having the urge lately to write something. I used to write quite a bit when I was younger, but I suppose life got in the way and I put down my pen. However, waking up this morning to a rain-soaked world, I was inspired and sat down to put my thoughts on paper. The following is what came out of that recent and well-remembered desire.

**This is a copy of a poem that I wrote on February 1, 2008 and previously posted on my other blog. I thought it had a better home here.

The River Weeps

Roaring through deep canyons with echoes loud and long
Icy tears' companion sings loud the mournful song.
Over, under, winding through, no ending to the deep
Foam white spray and sparks of blue, through all the river weeps.


Marching 'cross the bitter field where pain soaks in the soil
Silent watcher seldom healed of wounds from human toil.
Sentinal of changeless death that men upon it heap
The splash of red has spoiled its breath, in grief the river weeps.


Running fast away from all, seeking quiet rest
A place where none its name will call, the never ending quest.
It longs for solitude, a home, and no longer wants to keep
The sadness etched in memory's tome, for peace the river weeps.


Coursing, searching, never still, its task yet to perform
Continues on through strength of will, the calm beneath the storm.
The penalties of shame and fear are what the warriors reap
For seeds of hate sown far and near, in rage the river weeps.


Desert burn or jungle steam, no place of solace found
The vengeful strike a piercing scream, they gasp upon the ground.
Brief respites rarely come its way, when mankind fast to war will leap
Still it trembles for the day, when with love the river weeps.


And through the dross and wastes of men it forgives and washes clean
Another chance to make amends, the duel of life and death convene.
It follows fire's burning path, and fast away the ashes sweep
A time no longer dressed in wrath, with hope the river weeps.


**I don't know what prompted this particular writing, but today the phrase "the river weeps" kept running through my head and when I wrote it down, it turned into a poem about war. I guess it has been on my mind recently and although I don't generally know how to talk about such a weighty subject, I guess I needed to express some of my thoughts on it.