Small Stones Saturday

Craven Image
There is no courage
in saying you believe something
if everyone else approves.
...

There is no bravery
in going along with trending values
and standing where there is no real risk.
But what if there is risk on both sides?

What if you know, if you speak
there will be some who approve
and some who will not, either way.
Then you discover what true values are,
things you will fight for no matter what.
It is then that you know,
how timid the soul truly can be.
And how great and rare
and brave beyond measure
a single voice speaking
is.

A Different Sort of Small Stone...
My three year olds' question.
"Hey Mom? Can I throw a rock?"
(She has rock in hand). ...

All I can say is...
Thank goodness she asked.

Begin Again
Fail fail fail fail
fail fail fail fail
fail fail fail fail...

fail fail spectacularly
and fail again

but...
I will keep trying
until I get it right.

 

Going to the well

It stings to know
the well has been dry
for some time now....
I keep going
and looking in
hoping at some point
when I wasn't looking
it rained.
Every day
is an exercise
in hope against experience
maybe this time
I'll be able
to drink deeply.

I am a writer.
Was it a description? Yes.
A wish? Yes.
A declaration. Yes.
...

But what did it mean
and why?
Why did I want
to take words
and sculpt bone and ice
pain and light?
I wanted to invite others, all others
to run away with me in story
and find the world of my imagination
a place they wanted to stay.
That is why I write,
in hopes of creating that whole universe
that someone else discovers and says,
yes, it is very good.

Being Epic
We all live
for that moment
when we are...
epic, wise, beautiful
and change the world.

What we do not understand
is we change the world
when we go about
the business of living
even if it is tedious and hard
(and it often is),
by not surrendering,
we grow in wisdom,
the struggle is epic,
and our success,
all the beauty the world can bear.

Small Stones Saturday

There is a great and silent beauty
to the night,
to the snow,
to the whole world waking
It's just once we rise...
we forget to see it.

The beauty fades before us
as the heat of our days
melts it away
and so we do not stop
we do not slow
we do not remember
to wonder
And thus the world goes on fasting faster
starving and anxious
hoping someone will stop
and recall
this life was made for beauty.

Filling out a resume
It's been 20 years
since I had a job
the world would pay me for doing.
...

Listing dead places and dusty contacts,
never before have I felt
like I allowed so much time
to pour out
without taking full notice.

Pediatricks
For all her schooling
she really should have known better
than to think a three year old ...
my three year old
would agree to talk to her.
She shut her eyes
sucked her fingers
and declared NO to everything.
So the doctor
couldn't check the boxes.
I could have told her
if she listened
none of my children
ever check the boxes
but it isn't because they couldn't,
it's because they will to won't.
All the way home,
she proves the point
answering everything
she'd been asked
and pleased as possible
that the woman who asked
didn't get the answers.

Overheard at the Barber's shop
When I grew up
I lived near that house
set back against the woods...
down the street.

My sister and I
and eight other kids
learned to ride horses
from the old woman.

She trained for the Olympics
so she wouldn't take money
so my parents gave her
boxes of Scotch.

But the houses got bigger
and the families got smaller
there are fewer horses
and fewer people,
and something besides scotch and horses
has been lost.

Embers or Ashes
I have to wonder
why I write
when friends say...
they won't read
what I've written
for fear they
won't like me
after they've read it.
I have to wonder
do they really like me now,
or am I just far more needy
than even I know...
or worst of all,
both.

Small Stones Saturday

Every week you get five more of the poems I write --every day I'm not writing in a blog, on my WIP or an article, I write a poem to keep the brain jogging around the park.  Here's this week's offerings.

At Gymnastics

The Grandmother
wearing a yellow sweater sighed
but she smiled.
I don't know
what she thought
when she looked out
at the girls
flipping and twirling
jumping and climbing,
but part of me hoped
once long ago
she could do all they were doing and more.

What my children take for granted
Tumblr, twitter, Linkedin, instagram,
Pinterest Facebook, google plus and blogspot.
I remain mostly ignorant...
about all of them.

But I know there is so much more
in the world, in all of time
than the internet can hold
I know what it is
to ride a bike down a street
without a helmet or destination
and to weather a skinned heart and knee
My knowledge may be obsolete
but it is also timeless.

Overheard

The Perfect Unspeakable Joy
of listening to your 8 year old
warble "Let it go...."
while she's in the facilities,...
as you wonder how
you will ever summon the will
to tell her to not do that.

The Cure

Thirteen goslings pooped in unison
and fluttered as they waddled away

and the mood of my teen
who rolled down the window just to honk
which had been miserable

was instantly better.


Perspective

The barred owl shuffled along the road,
stopped and stared into the headlights of our car.

Bored when we seemed to be doing nothing, ...
he pumped his great wings

and sought out other parts of the park,
hoping the next exhibit would include more interesting animals.

Named
I tend to call my husband Love,
so often I forget about it.
But my three year old hears us talk in the morning...
after everyone else has been shipped off to school.
Over breakfast or me fixing his lunch, she pays attention.
Friday, he was away on a business retreat.
My daughter and I went to mass.
She fished through my purse at the homily,
and pulled out my phone.
"Don't you want to call your love?" she asked.
And she hands me my cell.
"He is your love. You should call him. You love him don't you?"
she beams, knowing the answer,
equally proud to be in on the secret.
Yes. Yes I do.


Pondering Pondering
How did we waste the time
Before we had the internet?

Spring
There were three girls running,
one of them wore orange.
...

There were two toddlers
both plucked yellow daffodils at the top,
and left the blossoms at the foot of the steps.
And all the construction workers
popped up onto the roads next to the pot holes,
taking the place of crocuses.

Just a reminder
Last night I dreamt
of the beach house
destroyed back in 2008....
Instead of relishing
in this lost family luxury
I worked to get to the water.

The fish were biting
my father was fishing
and I spent my time
working and reworking
the baiting of the hook.
Then we were in a hotel
but there was a pond/pool
and I stopped fishing
to worry about my son
and so I did not swim.
I turned to visit
and the room was filled with books
my son and the pool and all else
was gone and still
I did not read.
I woke up and knew
it wasn't an accusation
it wasn't a condemnation,
it was just a reminder.
From the many who love me,
be present, be present, be present.

March 15, 2014
Six word Saturday

I keep waiting to feel less.


March 10, 2014

It was an awesome funeral.
That sounds so odd to say.
And yet it was right right right.
We drank. We sang....
We ate, we feasted.
There were far more stories than tears

And yet the grief stayed real.
The church, everyone should have this,
was standing room only.
Like a wedding, the guest kept coming.
Like a wedding, the wine and the song
like a wedding, the fish and the cake and the guests
We stayed and stayed and stayed.
God we loved our Dad
And God loved Him more.
We joked at the rosary.
The things my dad does to get out of fasting.
We sang and cried and hugged at the mass.
There were 8 priests, two deacons, four nuns and a bishop.
It sounded like the start of a joke.
At the burial, ducks flew over
and people wondered, was that their form of a 21 gun salute
to the hunter who put down his gun?
Or a mocking, "It's safe to come out now nahnah nah nah nah nah!"
And we sang again. We sang the Notre Dame Victory march
and went back home to start eating and crying and laughing again.
It was an awesome funeral.

March 5, 2014

Breaking Heart News
Monday I felt a tug and prayed.
I've never prayed for a peaceful death for anyone.
It's just not in my make up....

But I did pray
that when my Dad died,
my Mom would be there.
She's spent the last year
driving to Orange every day
to sit with him
and sometimes feed him lunch.
Some days, he talks.
Most days, he doesn't.
But his face lights up
when she comes in the room.
Tuesday, my sister, my brother,
and my mom all said
he'd taken a turn for the worse.
So I told Mom my prayer.
Today, Ash Wednesday,
she was there
when he died.
And despite being 47
and a mother of ten,
I feel like a little girl lost.

Big Wealth
There is no brighter smile
than the near unlimited joy
and promise of things to come...
found in the face
of a three year old
who found four pennies.

Small Stones Saturday

Seven Word Sunday
Title: Soul Singing
At mass, my father echoed in my voice.


Spring Break
Today, I have a 7 year old
with a tooth about to fall out.
She smiles and asks when we can practice skating...
and I think, next week,
we get the whole week together.

I can't wait!

Ow.
Today I got a rejection.
It was reasonable.
But the part of me...
that isn't rational,
wants to cry, pout,
stamp around
and maybe eat six or seventeen cookies.
 

Today at the piano
those dusty keys
got a work out
as my fingers remembered...
songs assigned
so long ago
and the hours of practice missed
between then and now
disappeared.
It was a concert
and I remembered
the last time I sat
and really played,
it was while my dad
was at a nursing home
and I filled the air with music
trying to will beauty
into every crevice
of that sad place
and wishing I'd spent hours more
so the flood of sound
could have been grander.
Today, the audience
was me
and the fingers remembered
more than I did
and filled the empty places
that still are empty
with the promise
that eventually,
the notes will fill
all the spaces
and all the sharp
and flat feelings
will be
part of a more permanent symphony.

Happiness is Denial, and it's the color green, did you know?
I tell myself
better sooner than later
she learns...

there's not always an answer.
"Mom, fix the crayon."
and she hands me the point
and the stub.
But admittedly,
I didn't want that lesson today.
So I threw it away
and handed her a different one.
This may be a problem
when she gets older
but I'm willing
to settle
for the time being
with her thinking
Mom is magic.
Mom can fix everything.

Best Music
The other day,
my husband caught up
his 14 year old son in a bear hug.
...

And the strangest sound
issued forth
from my teen.
He laughed.
I can still hear it

Small Stones Collection

I still write poetry, mostly because it's fun.  I'm now starting to collect them.  Here are my most recent ones. 

Perspective
The barred owl shuffled along the road,
stopped and stared into the headlights of our car.
Bored when we seemed to be doing nothing, ...
he pumped his great wings
and sought out other parts of the park,
hoping the next exhibit would include more interesting animals.

Ready for Prom
Her face at her face
drew an unexpected smile
as if seeing ...

what we'd seen
since the first day
we ever saw her eyes.

Proud...or not
My son
took two chocolate bunnies
and smeared peanut butter between them,...
making a sandwich.

I'm disturbed.
Both because he thought of it
as he happily munches away,
and that I didn't.

Banishing the Demons of 7th Grade
(It's about damn time)!
Today,
I will open a book and read...

and I will not grade myself
on how far I get
or how long I got to spend
and I will not
consider myself to have failed
if at the end of that time
I decide
this book
isn't the one
to feed me today.

Good Friday
Wasn't going well.
The very air is stale
of my mood...
but it all comes to a blessed relief
when my second son,
the one who always fights,
the one who always struggles
puts out his arms
and carries his sleeping brother
up the stairs.
It doesn't take much.
It never did.
Just love.
Just love.