Like a sunny winter day – at minus 6 degrees
Like the burst of freedom – after losing a job
Like a long overdue family gathering – for a funeral
Like cuddling with a child – after a cancer diagnosis
Like seeing the truth – before taking your last breath
Dust on everything.
My soul is also covered.
Where is the Swiffer?
Life right now is routine and bland.
Days blend together, nights bring restless dreams.
I drift though endless hours of
pointless nonsense and dry distractions.
Still, the sun shines, casting rainbows
through the window prisms.
I miss the way things used to be.
I miss my friends and the life I had.
I miss the things from long ago.
I wonder who I used to be.
Still, the sun shines, casting rainbows
on the walls, the ceilings, the floors.
This time should not be wasted
and yet I can’t seem to move.
I need to find renewal
and just a little hope
In the sunshine, casting rainbows
on my soul.
Death and Viruses
Aging and New Babies
All changes require finding
A New Normal
Do we reach out?
Do we turn inward?
Do we look to God,
or our loved ones or ourselves?
Establishing a New Normal
takes Courage
involves Pain
is sustained by Hope
And in the end
maybe we’ll find
that a New Normal
will never really be normal again.
What has 63 years taught me?
That in the world there is:
darkness and light,
cruelty and kindness,
disregard and compassion,
irresponsibility and dedication,
in equal measures.
And I’ve learned that:
life and weeds will always find a way,
love is best given with no expectations,
life is too short to wear tight shoes,
there are little joys everywhere
if I just look.
I wonder what my remaining years will teach me?
I feel like a lump of cheese
shapeless and soft
ready to melt
at the slightest rise in temperature.
I feel like a lump of coal
not pressed hard enough
to create a diamond
but only enough to start a fire.
I feel like a lump of dry clay
so much potential
wasted by
disuse and apathy.
What kind of yeast do I need
to add to this lump of dough
to make it
rise again?
The slippery ice
makes me tiptoe
nervously through life.
I need better boots.
I have been too long away
from writing my poetry
from a visit with my family
from the joy of my music
from quiet walks in the woods.
I have been too long away
with no one to blame but myself
distracted by too many pointless things
worrying too much about things I can’t change
forgetting to just be here
I have been too long away
and it’s time to decide
what I really want
before I find myself
too long away from life itself.
Sometimes I literally want to die
die to my pain
die to my frustrations
die to my self pity
There must be more than just this.
I must be more than just this.
So, I cry and let the tears
show me how to live again.
The leaves are green
but the vines are bare,
Something is missing.
I breathe and I move
and I do all my chores, but
Something is missing.
The vines seem so sad and empty,
as does my heart and my life.
Something is missing.
Why are there empty stems?
Where are the bright purple flowers of hope?
Something in my soul is lost and pines
for the missing morning glories.
Karen Spivey's World 