Once upon a time

As we go through life sometimes it's so hectic and we get so overwhelmed with meeting the needs that it seems that we are always groping for the light of day... It's easy to see the big problems, but to forget the little blessings and reprieves that come along in life.

Once again, I found myself thinking about the future and trying to plan ahead for it, based on what I know and have here and now... Thinking of what I need to do to get those things I want and need before my life runs out. I always did that... and it's good to do, but then I have to chuckle and realize that it's pointless to worry about it TOO much.

Life has a way of sending us down roads we never expected... for better or for worse, and we really don't know how we got where we are even if we think we do. It seems reasonable to think that if you get college you get a great job if you do well there... but that's not always so. It seems that if we mess up a lot we'll never get ahead, but then there are many famous people who proved THAT wrong.

Sometimes I think there is something to FATE, but I do think we can control the littler things... like our own attitudes toward things that come along, and whether or not we will choose to watch TV or read a book, and things like that, but even then we might decide to take a shower and find that the hot water has run out because the landlord forgot to fix the hot water heater... or we might decide to forget about going to the Fair because we don't have the money for it, only to find that someone has just given us free tickets. There are always variables.

I think it's more important to do regular personal assessments... like looking into my habits and seeing how I can change one that's not working for me into one that IS, for instance. Am I a one to mope that I can't go to the fair because I don't have the money and then get the free tickets and STILL decide not to go for one reason or another?  ( No... I go, personally) Things like that can make a difference in the quality of life here and now, and change how I see things in the future.

I think that rather than looking at the world around us so much, and trying to figure out how to get from point A to point Z, we really need to take a good long look at ourselves and find the roadmap within that will lead us to where we really want and need to be. I was always a one to do that, but there was always something preventing me from getting past certain points. Doubts other people imposed on me through repeated suggestions, and actions geared toward their opinion of me, geared toward making me be, and do, what they wanted me to be and do, acting as a form of hypnotic manipulation. So my life path is rather a zig zag... though some are more complicated than that, no doubt


So I am thinking more about who I am... from the inside out... and not who I am in this world. I may not get to point Z, even so but it will make getting to the next point all that much easier.

My grandparents and parents are all gone now... The people I knew as a child have mostly become ghosts as well... the media, the news, the information we get, is all someone else's story too... Its time to edit myself again, and write myself a new script...................

TURN, TURN, TURN

  This is proving to be a year of great changes,  with glorious heights and terrifying unexpected turns, filled with unknowns awaiting answers. It's a year when everything that WAS is being washed away as if in a flood. What it will lead to is unknown. It is like a death and rebirth, beginning with the death of my mother in February, but her physical death is her birth in a new place, and it seems that I, for one, am experiencing the same kind of thing right here in this lifetime.

 It is a time for faith that is more than a mere word, but something to put into use every hour of every day, by counting the little miracle blessings that come along, and recalling them to mind... It's a year when putting faith in a higher source is the only way to avoid the terror of the unknown, and there have been many amazing little miracles and blessings along the way, tangible evidence that there is something bigger than me that knows what's best, if I just trust in it... non-verbal promises of better times to come in a new and better place. 

I planted the tiny seeds for this Coleus plant just two months ago, watering it every day and keeping it in the light of the sun, and it has come forth in great and beautiful abundance. It is my reminder, to myself, that this is like my life at this time...

For me, the food for an abundant and joyful new life is counting the many glorious little blessings that seem to come as if by magic. The watering for a new life is the FAITH in an unseen power that  knows more than I do, made evident in these small and glorious blessings and little miracles that actually make such a great difference each step of the way, and with THE LIGHT, it will come forth beautifully, and abundantly.

It is all too easy to doubt and be fearful in this world where dragons, and things under the bed and in the closet, seem all too real sometimes, but there comes a time when every child sees that those things only have power over them until the day they become aware that there is nothing there to fear because they know how to deal with them and make the dragons go away.

I am as a child now, but I count these blessings as as I go along, feeling the comfort in them as I would in the words of my parents as I was growing up, afraid of the dark, allowing the life within me to respond to the LIGHT that provides the answers for my needs here on earth, as I grow in spiritual awareness, to look back at this time as just one more stage in my earthly and spiritual progress, and nothing to fear at all.

THE LOST IMAGE

THE LOST IMAGE

                                           

There's a camera taking pictures
Can it tell just what I see?
Can it capture the real feeling
and the person that's inside me?

As I stand outside the church
looking down the empty highway
the shadows of the night
are quickly growing

My long dress whiping up the footprints
My hair pouring down my face
like tears pouring in my heart
Cause I know what it was...
all just a lie

The leaves are rustling lightly
 a cold breeze stirs them in the lights
of one lonely car that's passing
just a motion without heart,
in the night

My feet are cold here on the stone step
the threshold of a lost dream
and you're trying to capture that
like an image of the past,
of a ghost in black and white,
as if to make it real
But it wasn't meant to be, for me

The church is dark and empty
The contract null and void
The action is all past
There's a poster on the wall that says NO TRESPASSING

I tried to be the image that you wanted
but I couldn't live up to your reality
I can't be someone else
I can only be me

I had to leave it
I had to walk away
to become invisible again
and as silent as the new moon in December

It's just a memory of a memory
of one that was never made
of a dream that was best left where it was,
in the heart and mind,
where it would forever be sweet

Say good-bye to Richard
Say good-bye to Jean
Say good-bye to all of it
cause a nightmare's not my idea of a dream ...................

*written in 1970

LANDLOCKED

                                                           LANDLOCKED

 I am a foreigner to my music once again
I've let it drift off to a land far across time
and though I think about the days gone by quite frequently
There doesn't seem to be much chance to make a rhyme

My path seems to have taken me away
from all the dreams I knew, that once, for me, were real
and though I still touch upon those dreams from time to time
they have lost their shiny, innocent appeal

When I wake up now, it's no longer to the music
and to hours spent in rapture of the tunes
The sun above has passed through many seasons
and I no longer feel the call of rising moons

There was a quietness that one filled all my being
and miracles occurred with frequency
until I took to sailing with the landlocked
then was driven by a cold wind, out to sea

Although the soft spectrum of light still lingers near me
and entices me to come and share its song
I am bound to other voices for the time
that simply say to me that it does not belong

Perhaps one day I'll find the wind has changed
and become a constant breeze back to the stars
but for now the visions of the past are all I live by
for there doesn't seem much chance to make a rhyme

*originally written  Thursday, 2/5/1975 at 11 am

THE RIVER THROUGH OUR VALLEY ( a memory and a dream)

                                                  
                                                 THE RIVER THROUGH OUR VALLEY

                                                        ( a memory and a dream)

On cold days, silver-grey and lazy
 after rain, dark and fast and hazy
sparkling in the sun beneath a bright sky
with tides running low  and running high
      is the river
      is the river
     through our valley


So carefree when its sunny
Splashing children being funny
Teasing sailboats as they drift
Our water garden, our gift
   That's the river
   That's the river
   through our valley

I remember as a child
watching it by night
when the stars were full and bright
as a train rushed into sight
bobbing shoulders to the Moon
saying, "I'll be changing soon!"
  That's the river
  That's the river
  though our valley

An autumn night a meteor shower
dazzled us for over an hour
as we rode the river upstream
following the Sloop was like a sweet dream
     On that river
     On that river
     through our valley

More than a river, it's a friend
with little towns at every bend
and people out to sing their songs
to keep it clear and keep it strong
We can't replace the gifts it gives
as it will, long as it lives

     That sweet river
     That sweet river
     through our valley

• written in 1970

For the Pleasure of a Tree

                                                                     For the Pleasure of a Tree

                                                             
                                                   Outside the windows
                                                   the sunshine glares
                                                   rows of apartments
                                                   hot concrete squares

                                                  Designated spaces
                                                  for parking cars
                                                  across the highway
                                                  restaurants and bars
 

                                                  A reckless breeze
                                                  molests the rooms
                                                  children screaming
                                                 city fumes

                                                  A factory bellows
                                                  smoke from stacks
                                                  What I crave
                                                  this city lacks

                                                 Off, in my  mind,
                                                 a stream runs free
                                                 the gentle hum
                                                 of a busy bee

                                                Children laughing
                                                playing games
                                                flowers blooming
                                                from showery rains

                                               A country Fair
                                               alit with smiles
                                               All far away
                                               from this land of aisles

                                               A favorite place
                                               a world long past
                                               the dreams I dreamed
                                               and prayed would last
   
                                              The night's breeze, soft,
                                              cool and clear
                                              the weeping willow
                                              without tears

                                             It's graceful tendrils
                                             a home by day
                                             for singing birds
                                             to dance and sway

                                            Beneath its boughs
                                            a shaded dome
                                            of tiny leaves
                                            my second home

                                           How these memories
                                           come to haunt me
                                             and oh!
                                                for the pleasure of a tree


written in 1975

SILENT WORDS

   SILENT WORDS

My cries have fallen on deaf ears for so long that it seems all but hopeless that my prayers will finally be answered... but I know that all things are possible, and continue to pray.

This is the end of a road I have been on for a very long time. It is not one I would have chosen.
I have survived every peril along the way, finding blessings to sustain me, to keep me going for one more day, for one more hour, only to find that the end of this road is filled with the monsters that threaten to take my life.

My heart has been broken into many pieces, bit by bit. Nearly everything that I love and hold dear has been taken... all the love and effort I put into them, all the beauty they contain,  dashed upon the rocks... a pile of rubble, and me among them.

I am numb from shock and unbearable pain. I can only cry.

My tears are my blood... my life draining from me.

I sit in silence. Words, unspoken, trapped inside me. I dare not speak, for the time has not yet come. I count the minutes. I relive the memories of the end... I dream of the future and I pray.

Thanks, Mom

 My mother passed away last Saturday night, and although she was very quiet most of the time, there's a silence in the house that goes beyond quiet. My older son and  I have lived with her in her final years, and we have looked out for one another. We were always passing in the hallway, or ending up in the kitchen at the same time, and there were the sounds of her moving about doing this and that, all day, and we were passing a few words with her every a few hours that she was awake, day or night.

  I couldn't really hold conversations with her most of the time these past few years because her hearing was so bad, but she could hear her grandson's voice quiet clearly. I would often hear them talking about all kinds of things, as she sat in the livingroom surrounded by her books and shelves of special keepsakes.

 We would always ask her if she wanted something to eat, or if she needed anything, as we were on our way to the kitchen, or going out the door to run errands. There are so many little ways we all interacted, that they are impossible to really recount, and to put into words... and we will miss all of them... even those times that were upsetting at the time.

 Yes, we saw her in pain a lot of the time, for a long time, and were well aware of her more rapidly declining condition, but there is nothing that can really prepare you for the passing of someone you have shared your life, and then your living space, with ever since you can remember. There are times when we disagreed, and times when we got in one another's way, and all that, but no matter what differences we had, or misunderstandings, I, personally, always wished I could do more for her, and I'm sure she felt the same. .. not just about me, but all of us.

 The end of January she went to the hospital and was there for a week. When she went there, she asked if she would be able to come home again. We told her she could... and we made sure she did... even though it was only for two weeks. We all did everything we could to make her see how much she was loved and appreciated during that time, and I do believe she was aware of it, if she had ever had any doubts. I wish we could have talked more, but she was sleeping a lot, and didn't feel up to conversations. A line here and there, followed by a response, was about all she was up to, for the most part, but in those few words there was a communication that really didn't need a full conversation. The matters of the ordinary day to day living didn't concern us anymore. It was the one day at a time that we spent together that mattered now, and it was in doing the little things that were so important, and her appreciation of the care we were giving her, as best we could, that said more than words could to convey the love between us all.

 So many times I had wanted to do more for her, to show her how much I loved her, and it was frustrating to only do little things, when it seemed so clear that she needed something more... but what? How? Bringing her home to spend those days with us provided the answers... and I am sure she got some she was needing to know before she let go, and moved on, as well. I believe she was worried about us for years, too, and wanted to do more, but didn't know what to do, or how, as well... and I'm sure she would want true reassurance we would be fine, before she passed on.

 During that time, the immediate family came to visit her, including those who had moved away, but had kept in touch with her through cards and letters and phone calls, but were living their own lives. Her coming  home suddenly brought us all together under one roof, to catch up on things, and to bond with one another, and her, again. We were united again, and she saw this. She was responsible for this. This was something she could do, just by being who she was, and the love we all felt for her.... and she saw it. She felt it. It wasn't easy for us to care for her needs, but we did it. She knew this, and she did what she could to make it as easy on us as possible.

 Yes, we all wished it was MORE perfect than it was, but the love we shared, and conveyed to her without words, and her silent expressions of appreciation, was what came forth to override the desire to do more, or better. We all gave our utmost, to the best of our abilities, and she knew this. We made sure she knew that her care wasn't a burden to us, and our shortcomings were not imperfections to her. All that mattered was the love that was expressing. All else was just the limitations that come from living here on earth, but the love didn't care about that. It just kept flowing, and like a tide rising, it overtook all else, no matter what pain, concerns, or worries we had. They were there, yes, but they just didn't matter.

 At the end of those two weeks, she returned to the hospital. We had hoped that she would come home again. We knew her time was coming soon, but we didn't know it was as close as it was. We believed that she wanted to be home when she passed on, but perhaps it didn't matter when her final hour came, because we had fulfilled her desire to come home... and I believe she felt satisfied with that, because she didn't ask if she could come home again. She received better medical care and physical comfort than we would have been able to give her in her final days, and now she wanted us not to endure more, even though we actually welcomed it to express our love for her ( ... if endure is really the best word. I think it's the one she would have chosen.)

 When she took flight, she did so after several hours of visiting with her younger son and grandchildren, talking with them, enjoying their company. It seems to have completed her need to be assured that all was right with this world, knowing that whatever came next for us now, that we were going to go through it together... united. They had left only a short time before, and she went into her eternal dream peacefully, and quickly, with a very kind nurse at her side.

 In the days since her passing, we have noticed things that were lost have suddenly turned up in plain sight, things that were a concern have ceased to be, and other things ... and in unusual ways, we have gotten messeges that she is doing fine where she is now.

 Last night after we gathered here in her house, having said our adieus, we dined on a banquet of Oriental foods, which was her favorite cuisine. This morning, I was clearing away the remnants of assorted packets of condiments, napkins and plates from the table, and as I was doing so, I noticed a cellophane wrapper and a broken fortune cookie on the far, rear, corner of the table. It was the only one that had been opened, and uneaten, on the table. I thought it was a bit odd, since it seemed that if someone had unwrapped it and only wanted to read their fortune that it would be in a more noticable place on the table... more likely toward the front or middle of it, instead of to the rear, on an end near a wall, behind the many plates of food that had been there, and where there was noone could possibly have been sitting. Beside it was the little white piece of paper. (I have yet to ask who did that, but it really doesn't matter, because whoever chose it couldn't have known what the messege would be.)  As I finished clearing the rest of the things away, out of idle curiosity I read it. To my amazement it said: THE JOB IS WELL DONE



Thanks Mom, I agree