Lately, my thoughts
have been as frozen
as the long Wisconsin winters.
has been buried
beneath layers of frost and snow.
I can’t seem
to find my footing
on these slippery emotional slopes.
And my soul
has suffered the effects
of a grueling daily grind.
Some may say
that’s no excuse
for letting my writing fade.
Some may say
that doing the deed
will cause the deed to be done.
Some will say
I only hurt myself
when I give up the things I love.
And I’d say
they are right to admonish me
as I admonish myself.
So, here it is–
a tiny piece of writing
that stands as testament to my desire.
And, here it is–
not very pretty or poetic
but still, words to melt this frozen tundra.
I went to Discovery World Museum the other day,
just to see what I’d been missing.
There were gadgets and levers and buttons,
swooshes, beepings and whistles.
Nothing with instructions, few with explanations.
And the children loved it.
They ran from one thing to another,
just pressing and pulling and laughing,
while I stood, dumbfounded,
afraid of breaking some kind of rules of motion.
It makes me wonder,
when did I forgot how to play,
And when did I become
afraid to experiment,
And when did I start
seeing danger instead of wonder in the unknown.
It’s a jolt to realize that at fifty something
I am no longer smarter than a 1st grader…
The stars and the moon are playing tag.
Orion is chasing Cassiopeia across the sky.
Every day, the constellations invite me into their game.
Sometimes from here. Sometimes from there.
And I smile at their antics.
On one foggy morning,
feeling hopeless and dreary,
I glanced up, somewhat in despair, only to find
Venus, pushing aside the heavy curtain
and winking at me.
Then I asked myself,
how could I have forgotten
the tremendous joy in the world,
when every day
the stars and moon come out to play with me?