As the sun gives way to the horizon
At the first hint of night
Softly I sing your name
And all at once,
Beyond my imagining
The whole sky lights up
…from everywhere, deep within
It knows the song in my heart..
…. the one that plays for you
****
ellie894 March 23, 2020
Thank you, Sadje for the inspiring weekly photo prompt! You always choose a stunning image!
Please be safe everyone, and get Plenty of Sleep!
Suzanne ❤️
On the night swing
Silence reigns peacefully…
One, two, three…
I begin to count the stars,
Soon, I realize there aren’t nearly enough.
Where did they get away to,
Did they become wishes,
And did they come true…
With an upward gaze and an open heart,
I fly from here to soar the heavens
And tiptoe there among them.
They sparkle with a surety and a grace
That sends me back through time
Into a shining darkness of uncountable nights.
Ones that came before so many counterfeit lights of man.
There was an age
When stars outnumbered the neon glow.
I miss it much…
Do those that are left in the heavens look to us now,
In mystery, as we do them.
Are they intrigued by our sparklers of one kind and another.
Do they surmise that some of their very own
Have fallen into this dusty corner of space…
…to enchant us mere women and men…
…maybe.
Is that how a wish is born,
Does a star choose to fall,
Because it heard the distant whisper of a thought…
It hopes,
And draws close,
Close enough to listen…
To the stories of you and me.
…maybe.
But, I ask,
Do they still enchant us,
Or have we replaced them
With something that will never be real.
Desire beckons to me
To find a somewhere
Where once again, the lights of us are few to none,
And the stars are free
To reign in silence
From their own celestial home
Where they belong….
****
ellie894 September 8, 2019
I cannot yet say that there’s a welcome chill in the air
…but it is finally September…
Could you hear the sigh in me
As I wrote it out full…
September…
Last night a deer felt at home in the field
This morning,
A hawk graces the sky above me
My creek saunters on
As lyrically as always
To wherever it goes
But to my gaze it all seems the tiniest bit different
Far more exquisite than mere words
Can tell
It shimmers from the inside
As though by a faery’s whispered spell
I take a step
And another
…and another still
Gentle ones made carefully
So as not to disturb the tender things
That call the ground home
While I search the pine straw for a feather
…there isn’t one to be found
Perhaps there will be when I return
In time for the sun to wish me goodnight
Oh, eventime…
Will the colors be brilliant in their last hurrah
Or faded and comforting
Like my favorite soft jeans
We’ll see
But I don’t want to miss this moment
In anticipation of that one
And so back to now,
Woodpeckers knocking behind me
And turtles preparing to laze themselves long
Hour after hour
Upon the finest fallen log
I wonder at what they will see
While I am away this day
I breathe deeply in
The sweet air of a new dawn
After all it is September…
Some days there is a peace that comes
That nearly overwhelms me,
As silent as a single feather drifting
As mighty as the golden setting sun
All at once my heart knows
Beyond all knowing
That this…
…this is what love feels like…
****
ellie894 September 4, 2019
I could play with these thoughts a while longer and make them just so. I wonder if I’ve made a mistake somewhere that I’ll discover only after I share. So please forgive any missteps. I want only to give them away before this day gets away from me. They’re yours now and my hope is that you’ll find something lovely in them of your very own to keep. May you all find joy and kindness in the days ahead. ❤️
The music beckoned to me
To go
So I went
In search of what
I cannot be sure
But, when I came to rest
Deep within the soul
Of my own belonging
I looked down to my feet
Planted firmly upon the sturdy ground
And what to my enchantment
Did I find there….
…but an ancient,
primeval forest…
A wildness beyond my imagining
As near as my touch…
It contained its own bewildering completion
Before it would ever even begin
I am mesmerized
As I leave it behind me
Will it stay there
Where I first found it
Or will it travel farther than far
To become all that it was meant to be
The music beckons to me
To go on
So I go
Wondering as I do
At how many moments in a day
Hold the vast possibility of everything
Yet, we move too quickly
To know they are there
I see a primeval forest
At home in the depths of your gaze
I see an ancient universe
Dance in the sparkle of your smile
In the heart of every moment
Eternity is hoping
To become the love story
That it was always meant to be…
****
ellie894 July 30, 2019
Listening to Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony
In East Texas, June air can often be as humid as a rainforest. You pray for it to just let go and rain already. It’s so heavy that I struggle to breathe.
This week hasn’t been that way. The days have had a lovely Novemberish feel to them…inviting me to linger a while…in gentle moments well spent. I have learned much.
Bunnies were born in the yard this week. It began in a frustrating once upon a time, turned into a silly sweet day of caregiving, and finally came to a secure and happy end. I’ll write to you of them soon. Yes, dear Dobby Do was involved.
So, there have been busy hours and not so busy hours, which brings me back to my walking once again….
My breathing changes when I set out to walk each evening. It slows, as do I. To be honest, I don’t walk for exercise. I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere or to do anything in particular.
Forest Bathing is becoming quite a popular thing these days which makes me giggle. It seems I’ve been forest bathing for a long time. Who knew?! I had no fancy name for it or scientific studies to tally up in bar graphs as proof that it was a clever idea. And no, you don’t need soap.
Mostly, it’s about listening…to the trees and the wind…to the birds and the frogs…to the echoes of thoughts in my heart…
In everything there is a longing, to be at peace, to create, to love.
In the wild places everything is a part of the longing and belonging…from the fallen tree to the precious snail. The snail moves as peacefully as a breeze. He pauses often to enjoy the lovely moments…the tiny ones that he knows are worth all the time in the world.
The trees reach ever forth in new creation. Fresh leaves leap into the bluest sky. Fresh roots delve into the deepest earth. Trees create in every which direction from the center of themselves.
And what of love…in the wild places love is everywhere.
Deer keep close to one another in the shade of the sweetgum, listening more carefully than I do for rustling in the leaves. Flowers open in colorful surprise, a gift of last season’s efforts and a whole year’s waiting. Frogs sing to me each afternoon as I blow kisses of goodbye and see ya soon. They probably sing to each other…but it’s nice to imagine it’s for me.
I made cheese ladas this week and had leftover corn tortillas. I shall feed the fish, I thought! No need for waste! The perch were boisterous and seemingly starved! A lone catfish was shy about the whole thing. With time and patience he not only came near but ate straight from my hand. My heart raced in joy!
Then, there was this little turtle. I shall call him Tiny Tim after the turtle in the song that I share with the preschoolers. We giggle and make hand motions and always but always sing it twice…
I have a little turtle
His name is tiny tim
I put him in the bathtub
To see if he could swim
He drank up all the water
Glue glub glub
He ate up all the soap
Nom nom nom
Now he’s home
Sick in bed
With bubbles in his throat
Bubbles bubbles bubbles
Bubbles bubbles pop
Bubbles bubbles bubbles
Bubbles bubbles pop!
Again!!
Tim adores corn tortillas! He easily dispersed the perch and even tried to scare off the catfish who is at least three times his size! He grabbed the tortilla bites from my hand and swam far enough away to gobble them down before returning for more. We went on like this until there was no more. Plus, the sun was setting and it was time for me to get home.
Each day I arrived with something to share. Each day the lake dwellers came in their own way…especially Tim.
Last night I was awfully tired and there had been bunnies all day and I had run out of corn tortillas. So it was that I arrived at the lake empty handed…
The perch splashed at me in gleeful anticipation. The catfish floated gently back and forth at the edge of the pier waiting for my hand. But Tim….he really gave me the “what for”!
He swam close to the pier and popped up…
What’d ya bring me?
When I didn’t give him anything he swam off a few inches only to return and pop up…
Seriously, what’d ya bring me?
He began to come up and just stare at me…quietly staring…
Other times it seemed he had a voice –
Hey?
Hey?
Now?
How bout now?
Now?
How bout now?
Tiny Tim was relentless.
I giggled at his eager enthusiasm. I was saddened that I was such a disappointment to him. I never realized that he would invite me into his world. I never thought they would all come up to the surface of the water because of me. Of course I know hunger was involved, a longing for nourishment. But still, there I am, wondering. I have learned my lesson and shall definitely be taking something to share when I head out to walk later. I have no desire to spend my evening being stared at again by Tiny Tim.
I know there will be more days like yesterday when I have nothing to give. The fish and the turtles will come anyway. I’m grateful for that. Love is not always about doing. Nor should it be. Love is about simply being.
Whether one calls it Forest Bathing or Listening doesn’t really matter. It may be a flower coming up through a sidewalk crack that reminds you of that time…or a single pot filled with herbs that you will use to create a luscious meal. It may be an ocean or a mountain top or a forest with a lake. It doesn’t have to be a big place. You only have to feel the gift of it.
When you find the wild places, the simple ones…you discover they are filled with longing for peace and creation…and they sweetly overflow with love and belonging….
****
ellie894 June 15, 2019
I often write things
that I fear are not worth reading
So, I tuck them neatly away
Fragile thoughts folded in upon themselves
The words fade and the pages yellow
As a memory floats into view
*
…of being ten years old
picking blackberries
in a blazing Texas summer sun
no clouds, no shade, no wind
while my cheeks burn red
my pail remains nearly empty
as i search endlessly
hand to mouth
for the One…
you know which I mean
the One that brightens your lips
in a triumphant juicy smile
of sweet buried treasure
once lost
now found
I eat far more than I put in my pail
it remains nearly empty
so tomorrow
there will be no cobbler
or biscuit jam
tonight
there will be no need of dinner
or dessert
only a cool bath gently run
to soothe my fiery skin
the search was everything
it filled me and fed me
left me weary
in the nicest of ways
sleep will surely come
claiming me for its restful own…
*
Tucked away somewhere
Are some yellowed pages bearing faded words
That I should wander through
It is time
To take them out of hiding
Unfold them
And see if anything has ripened
Sweet enough
To fill a nearly empty pail
Perhaps,
In the morning
We shall have biscuits with blackberry jam
And in the evening
Warm cobbler with cold ice cream
And after that,
When the stars come forth to shine
And the fireflies begin their nightly tango
We shall sleep the weary peaceful sleep
Of being ten years old
At the end of a perfect summer’s day
****
ellie894 June 4, 2019
How often do I wonder
If I am too much
Or not even enough…
…strong the drums begin
listen well and let go my love…
let go and listen well…
Oh…for the feel of the music
…flowing into the depths of me
….comforting the silence of my soul
Can you hear the mockingbird
Dancing along the ivory keys
From black to white….
…and now again…
Gently a splash of turtles
Pleases and eases in the fulsome pauses
While at the ruffled edges
Frogs resound deep as cellos,
And full with moonlit meaning
Eagle spreads wide her wings
Gracefully taking to the heights of the open skies
Calling softly to her lover above the violins
As though she was meant to be there all along
… at last…
a sensual harmony of lost enchantment
…am I at the very heart of it
….or is it at the very heart of me…
…the rhythm echoes
within…with…in…
Until, I am no longer my own
….but, yours my love
a starry midnight note
in the forever of your painted song…
**
I come to rest near the water’s edge at evening. Van Gogh’s Starry Night in my mind’s eye. Beethoven harmonizes well with the soulful sounds of the woods behind me. Ebudae too. And, I am carried far away to lovely places within my heart.
****
ellie894 May 14, 2019
Early last evening I drifted off to the sounds of a favorite song on repeat. I wonder how they do it, the composers I mean. However do they know which notes to place beside each other. They choose so carefully. How can they be certain that these two will be more beautiful if they are together. The best music is that way. I can’t listen enough. It is over too soon. I only want it to go on and on…
When I awakened at midnight the song had stopped. But, the rain had just begun. It came strong against the roof. I love it when it does and I haven’t anywhere to be. If only the roof was a tin one…. I snuggled under the covers and deeper into dreams. There were wings there, so many beautiful wings.
I chose some flower bulbs a few weeks ago. The lilies will be a rainbow of colors. The clematis will climb and cover the fence. I am most looking forward to the hollyhocks. I’ve never managed them before. If all goes well they will be tall spires of ruffled pastels. I hope…They are waiting on me. The days are warm enough. There is plenty of rain. I even know where they will be planted. It is time.
A new bunny friend has taken up residence in the nearby woods. She drives the dogs berserk going through the fence at her leisure. She comes and goes as if she owns the place. “It’s been awfully nice, see ya soon!” she calls over her fluffy cottontail. Meanwhile Jack and Dobby bark in helpless frustration that they cannot follow. Good for her!
Have I ever told you that early memory at my very first home? The one when I was very young. The story of the yellow sofa. Oh, I must tell you that one soon. It’s such a happy thing. It’s nice to tuck away the sweet ones and keep them. Like the time you said to me….
Yes, that one’s very dear. I treasure it…as I do you…
Yesterday was the Easter egg hunt! I wish you could have seen the children lined up in a row clutching tight their baskets. They waited so patiently to be let loose in the grass. Anticipation filled the emptiness! I was paired with a new little girl who was heart sad with missing her daddy. But, for a while she let go of her sorrow to search for beauty at her tiny feet. I noticed her pass over the purples and the blues in favor of the pinks and yellows. It touched my heart the way she carefully chose what was just right for her. It wasn’t about having the most or even about having more. A few lovely eggs were enough.
Do you know what I love…that there was plenty…of everything. No one was left out. All belonged. All were found. Happy baskets. Smiling children. And the sky was kind enough not to rain until we had had our fun. One sweet face looked up at me in pure joy and asked – can we do that again?! All over again! I don’t think he even realized there was something inside of the eggs. The search was joyful gift enough.
Now, I’m in a quiet place, one I come to over and again. It’s a searching kind of place where the being here is gift enough. I’m writing to you as I listen to a favorite song on repeat. And I wonder how the composer knew how all those beautiful notes would be even more lovely beside each other….
****
ellie894 April 18, 2019
ellie894 