Yellow Blooms

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
over fingertips,
and a fallen one tuck
in a long, silky tress,
face tilted up,
b r e a t h i n g  i n
this existence
in yellow floral dress;
the sun kisses shoulders,
and I sense your jealously
in our cottage
working remotely.
Heading back,
I hear the kettle whistling
cheerfully for me….

Organic Strands

Sand reset from man,
I become entranced
with the details of
single, swirling strands
of sensuous non-webs,
naturally highlighted
by Sun’s caressing hands
as time once again
slows, revealing all
there really is
to know
and leads my eye,
my soul,
through the untouched
and unknown
if not for my discovery.
I leave all undisturbed
as the week
uncoils from
my nucleic acids
and releases me
to breathe again.
The sea and
wildflowers within
begin to weave
with stems
and breezes
to stitch me
with soft sunbeams
and floral essences,
and I stay for
a few forevers
having the birds
serenading
with the familiar
carols heralding
spring…

Sunny Blooms

It’s sooooooo dismal out there! People’s weather. 

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. 

Happy Wednesday, all! 

💛 Love always! Laura 🙂

Happiness Is

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Happiness is not always yellow

and sunny.

Laughter favors

no particular season.

A smile, though sparked

most easily by another,

still stems and spreads

from within.

 

The Moon and Clouds of Gray

still reach out

with benevolence,

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want just as much as Sun

to see your face,

your wings spread wide

to spin and dance,

 

and Rain,

oh, sweet unfavored Rain,

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continues faithfully to play,

an orchestra with Thunder,

despite ingratitude

and complaints.

 

Embrace the rain!

Remember what it is to

play

before the gripes

of adulthood

swept you away.

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And remember the warmth

offered by Sun

can still tickle dimples

from hibernation,

thaw a smile

from the ice,

despite the cold

and long winter season,

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for hope,

like joy,

can always be found

if you simply

go out

and look around,

 

though the truest truth is

it can always be found

within,

though the best way

to waken the laughter

from the heart

is to allow another

in.