Nothing is more peaceful than watching a sleeping baby.
The flutter of the eyelids, the contented sighs, the folded hands and curved inward fingers.
The bowed legs and turned in feet, looking like prayer hands; lightly touching each other.
It is easy to lose track of time watching a sleeping baby.
The rise and fall of his belly as he breathes in and out.
The slight nodding of his head as each breath is drawn in,
Making his whole body stretch and reach for even deeper slumber.
Gravity gradually pulling him down into the mattress,
His muscles relaxing, as he floats in his suspended world.
His arms heavy at his sides.
His legs seeming to dangle in space with only his toes to ground him as he
Lazily wiggles them back and forth.
He barely makes a sound, his lips slightly parted,
His head gently rocking upon a hardly visible neck.
Even his ears seem relaxed as no noise penetrates
His rhythmic pattern.
The breath expanding to his belly, to head, to arms,
To gently laid hands and splayed fingers, in a
Prayer pose of feet and a grounding of toes; all
Culminating into a smile on my face, as with a contented sigh
I force my own eyes to close.
Filed under: Life, Philosophy, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tags: Predestination, serenity
The sun rising and setting is just a marking of time.
Every breath that is consumed and expelled depreciates the body,
withers the husk, loosens the bonds that ground us to the earth.
The seasons changing show us how Nature carries on independently of our plans for it,
and doesn’t need any help from us to do what comes naturally.
Every step that is taken is another step closer, another jaunt, another skip, another
bend in the road, another obstacle to challenge us as the sands of time run through the hourglass of our lives.
One day we will look out of our window and the light will no longer blind us because there will be another figure to absorb our attention.
The figure will beckon and we will not be afraid, we will realize we have reached the next step in our lives…we will have ascended as high as we can on our current plane.
Every moment will melt away.
Time will have no meaning.
Food will not be needed.
Drink will seem a distant memory, as will everything else that seemed to be so important;
caused us so much stress.
We will exhale all of the anxiety, fear, loss, depression, negativity
and inhale calm, serenity, love, and grace.
We will shed all of the possessions we accumulated making us lighter and lighter,
causing us to lift off the ground, and push up against the ceiling like a hot air balloon pulling at
the weighted lines that hold it to the earth.
This is when our skin and our minds will expand to become so thin and so full of hidden knowledge that the
substances of our body will cease to be solid.
We will feel ourselves pass through the walls of our homes,
fly through the roof and rise up to the clouds.
Nothing will be holding us down, not worry, nor heavy change in our pockets,
we can just float up and up and
glide on the wind watching our energy dissipate into all directions
knowing that eventually all our parts will come back together
finding their way as if by instinct,
to the same destination.
bends with the wind in a field
A perfect pairing
I need attention
I need attention
I need to be heard and seen and felt
I need to be loved and cherished and held
Without this attention I am like a
flower left without water and
a child locked in a dark room
all shriveled, emaciated and reaching
I need to know I matter
I need to know I matter
and that I matter to you.
I want to be counted
relied on, thought of,
longed for, and to know that whatever I do
I have your support.
I hope this is a wake up call, I hope you read this
I hope you absorb it and realize that I need you
just as much as you need me and without us
my back can only bend so far
until it breaks.
***This post is for Jingle’s Thursday Poetry Rally Week 28 Poem Post.
Thank you to Jingle @ Jingle for nominating Wondrinsoul the Week 27 Perfect Poet Award
For Week 28, I nominate Lest I Smite Thee @ http://lestismitethee.wordpress.com/2010/07/31/writing-rape/
Filed under: Emotions, Life, Poetry | Tags: confidence, life stages, reminiscence
Last year I was the one in the white dress, staring at a picture of myself
in the glass watching from the other side of a black and white camera lens,
screwing in my smile and keeping it firmly planted on my face,
not feeling the heat of the day, and being protected from the melting of the cake.
This year I watched as you prepped your makeup in front of the mirror and
blotted your lipstick, tucking a careless hair behind your ear as I helped to
hold up your white dress, too high for you to step into, and then lower so your
cotton colored shoes could slide gracefully down the fabric and touch the earth once again.
I remembered you as a child of peach fuzz hair and cross eyes, crawling backwards.
I remembered you as a toddler being dressed up as the boy in our house games,
following me around and cooking up imaginary meals for me with your shorts on your head,
pretending it was a chef’s hat.
I remembered you as a kid falling and breaking your arm on the monkey bars, the same arm
that reached up and held one side of your birdcage veil while the jeweled comb on the other side
was being slid into place by our Mom.
I remembered you as a teenager, and being jealous of your ability to draw, and the fact you were always
skinnier than me..these seemed petty concerns on this day.
I thought of these things as I held the sides of your dress together and we zipped you into your future.
The dress fit you like a sigh, so snug yet so perfect for your form, as if it was painted on.
I watched as you looked into the mirror and I saw the corners of your mouth turn up the moment you saw
how beautiful you looked. It was as if all the preparations you had made for this moment hit you all at once, and
your wedding became real.
Mirrored in that white dress I saw all the stages of your life fall away
and you were left in the center whole, complete, happy.
You were radiating confidence and poise, a model of strength and conviction.
I was so proud and a little surprised to see how much you had grown up
and how much of myself I recognized in you,
on that day,
in that moment,
we were both wearing a white dress together,
staring into the mirror of the rest of our lives.
I’m a California girl at heart, born and raised there most of my life….having moved to the East Coast in 2007, I still have been getting used to the differences between the seasons. Summer for me is the worst, and if anyone asks…I always say, bring on the snow!
summer to me has become the constant hum of our window unit.
it is too hot to go outside and too humid to enjoy the sun.
summer to me has become iced tea, and sherbet, long movies
with the volume turned up as loud as it can go on the TV
to drown out the buzzing of the air conditioner.
summer to me has become watching how lazy my dog is
as he lounges on his back, his legs up like a dead cockroach and his ears lying
open and raised above his head like a bat’s
he has a half-smile that shows one side of his teeth and a small line of spittle
oozing out of the other side of his gum line
he is happily dreaming of colder days.
summer is now blockbuster movies and being allowed to wear capri pants to work,
living in flip-flops, and getting excited about a trip to the grocery store because it is
at least 20 degrees cooler in there than at home.
it is feeling trapped in your own house while the sun looks so inviting and the
clouds are beautiful and fluffy, only to be assaulted by hot air that sucks the
moisture out of your eyeballs as soon as you open the door.
it is barbeques and picnics, on the days where the humidity has gone down
and tick spray and citronella candles, swatting at mosquitoes in your mother-in-laws
backyard and back-to-school shopping.
it is vitamin D supplement tablets and cutting up watermelon
it is frozen grapes because you can’t afford Popsicles and being envious of
your relatives in California that can drive 20 minutes to the beach
it is wishing you had a pool and then realizing you would have to maintain it during the
winter and then silently thanking your lucky stars you don’t have one
summer to me has become waiting out the humidity and testing the air each night
for a cool breeze, trying to open the windows instead of run the air, and then just give up
it is constantly running ceiling fans and box fans and carrying around a spray bottle of water
summer to me is now big bottles of water and Gatorade and coconut water, taking four separate
drinks to work and making sure I remember to drink them
summer to me is being glad I love my husband so much because I see him around all
the time and when we are broke we find fun things to do at home together
summer to me is promising myself I will exercise so when winter comes and we are forced back
inside by the snow and the rain and the sleet and the hail, I will not be so out of shape
summer is making promises of taking better care of myself and then always finding something
more fun to do than exercise
summer is salads and squash and avocados (if they are ripe enough)
summer is wishing it was autumn already and visiting my parents looking like a ghost
summer is coming back from California with a tan and trying to maintain it long enough for my
sister’s wedding in just a few weeks…
summer is another season, in another year in my roller coaster of an ever-changing,
ever-growing, new and exciting life where anything is possible and everything is an opportunity.
Filed under: Philosophy
sometimes I wish when I was sick I could just be sick,
instead of feeling like I have to pretend to be well.
my body knows I’m sick, I know I’m sick, but it feels
weird to act sick and not stop normal activities.
i don’t want to make other people sick because
they absorb my low immunity vibes.
it’s almost like being in the animal kingdom and
afraid to show the slightest weakness for fear of
being the first gazelle pounced on by the lion.
can you imagine how embarrassing that must be for the gazelle?
there you are, just taking a drink at the local watering hole and
BAM, suddenly you have lion teeth in your rump.
it must be such a validation that the other gazelles are faster,
smarter, and better than you when that happens.
if i was that gazelle, I would be pretty depressed.
I would probably just give up and concede letting the lion know
Yes. I am the weaker species, you win. Now just eat me and get this over with.
I think it might be worse for the other gazelles though who have to watch that.
I mean, they must start doing stretches or running in place or something…
something to show they are alert and fit and not going to be taken by surprise;
that is a lot of pressure to put on a gazelle, especially at 6:00 in the morning!
I guess the moral one can derive from this display of animal bravado, is not to
show weakness, EVER, or you just might be singled out as the weakest gazelle
and end up as some stronger, more dominant ( probably bigger and smarter than
you) predator’s dinner.
how much abuse can one stomach take?
there must be some kind of deep seeded hatred within my bowels
that causes my intestines to cramp.
No, it is not “my time of the month,” thank you for asking…jackass.
I hate all the euphemisms used for a menstrual cycle…like
it is something that should not be talked about in public, like it
is some big, freakin’ secret that needs to be hidden from others.
I am a Woman!
I have a period…get over it!
no, Aunt Flo is not visiting,
no, I haven’t received a monthly gift from Mother Nature,
no, I am not crippled with a case of women’s problems…
I’m going through a perfectly natural, rite of passage that every woman
goes through at around the same time every month.
I’m experiencing the same relief millions of woman feel
when they go to the bathroom and find out they are not pregnant;
or the same panic that accompanies a trip to the toilet when we are pregnant.
So, anyone who would like to criticize me, and chastise me for showing a little pain
on my face while my body decides its time to drop an egg and purge itself for a few days, can
just go to hell.