Yellow and white wild blooms
I insist remain nameless
I contemplate picking for you
to arrange in sill sunlit,
but I can’t do it;
I keep them rooted
but skim their scent
and a fallen one tuck
in a long, silky tress,
face tilted up,
b r e a t h i n g i n
in yellow floral dress;
the sun kisses shoulders,
and I sense your jealously
in our cottage
I hear the kettle whistling
cheerfully for me….
With a single spark from my wild heart, I sneakily reseed a little yellow cheer and carry on my solo way, planting the little flames to light the way back to love.
So if you see the floral light, pass it on randomly, be kind to a stranger, let’s try to string smiles, no matter how fleeting, for the winter is receding, and the birds sing of forgiveness, of burying, of remembering,
for in the decay of leaves, we can fertilize the best parts of memories, and visit the rest at the graveyard of past seasons; the reasons you cling to that poison your roots, leave by the wayside and mark the route. Visit respectfully but do not carry it with you; seeds were meant for detaching, and rebirthing where they land new blooms.
Befriending bumblebees, watching cloud-shapes come to life, making majestic the flowering weeds, the peace around me seeps in when I am outside.
Time may tick, but no manmade clock interrupts Laura’s la-la land thoughts. I am one of them, the nature alive in the yard, no language needed when you are birthed from the stars, though I do whistle in response to the birds; in another life, I learned the wordless verses.
Sunlight dances with my frizzy tresses; soon I will waltz with the summer wind in sundresses. I don’t need to go far; just don’t make me go in. I wish to stay longer as princess in this magical kingdom.
The holidays are always toughest for me. I hit my latest low the minute they “ended,” when I let it all out. Just too many inner truths surface and get ripped open that I like to keep neatly wrapped the rest of the year and stashed away in the closet… but I made it back. And I came back stronger than ever. Funny how it seems it needs to work that way; the lowest lows, not survived but surmounted, climbed, seem to bring us to the highest heights, reward us with the wings even, to fly. Without the lows, we can never truly experience, let alone appreciate, the highs, and I sure do love the highs. Would you give up both for a forever flatness?… I don’t think I could.
I did more than survive that last round, though the sirens lured me in again. This time, I remembered I was part mermaid and eventually high-tide-tailed it out of there. Boy, were those sirens ever surprised! I swam away; I want to naturally say back to the light, as I, like many, have fallen into favor with the analogy of darkness and light. One of my favorite song lines is, “If I could turn back the clock, I’d make sure the light defeated the dark” (Calum Scott). I can’t even type it without getting goosebumps. I am one who can put a song on repeat indefinitely and just stay forever in that powerful moment and zone. It does bring to mind how powerful that zone can be, and how we really do need to pay attention to what we have on repeat and also make sure that if we are playing a broken record, we don’t lose sight of the needle; my whole life was that metaphor for so long…
I would also like to defend darkness; not all darkness is bad. I strive to start every day in darkness; I simply must be up long before dawn. It’s my me time, my writing time. I keep the lights off, and my fingers gravitate like moths to the laptop light to begin their beautiful dance ritual, witnessed by the waning moonlight. The pup continues dozing beside me.
When it comes to natural darkness, let us also never forget, we are lovingly gifted the stars and moon, to guide us, to talk to, to dream upon, to comfort those scared of the dark. And like the lows, how can we appreciate the magnificent beauty of the waking morning colors if not for that contrasting black backdrop canvas? I feel I am always first in line to witness the sun rise, and I never take for granted that it does. To know the light will always faithfully and unconditionally return!…
People’s weather out there though… Sheesh! Work morale is sooooo low. All year this year. We are normally the undefeated champs when it comes to good vibes. The students too…they are zombies I cannot wake up. The other day, a gray and rainy one, I crossed paths with a former student in the grocery store parking lot. He exclaimed, “No way!!!” repeatedly at seeing me, face lit up like a thousand suns, as he got out of his car, as giddy as a toddler on Christmas morning, to hug me in the rain. That’s what I’m used to. Requited love, relationships, connections, making a difference, making memories to last a lifetime…all at my paying day job, my calling, my passion, my joy. We reminisced in the rain for a bit, no umbrellas. I felt every drop and soaked it up like a thirsty leaf in a drought. He said this encounter made his day (he was on his work break in his car). It made my year.
I refuse to succumb to the bug. We can blame the virus, that year before this one, sit around and complain and focus on the negative and keep injecting ourselves with daily self- and collective-pity, or we can just not. Masks cannot hide smiling eyes nor fully muffle the sounds of laughter. If we chose smiling and laughter. Just choose it. For a moment. An hour. A day. A week. No matter what. Stay in the light. Better yet, be the light. Ignite yourself first. You can use the blue within, the pilot light.