



suzanne❤️



















July 14, 2019
Despite the heat,
I have been outdoors
For the last two days
Tending
To roses
And grasses
And trees
The sunny dappled garden of my days
I even dug in the dirt
To plant the already sprouting
Sweet potatoes
I offered them a better home
Than their pantry basket
Did you know
If given the chance
They make a lovely vine
The tendrils are delicate
The leaves decorous
And the green is decidedly delightful
So it was
That I was
Tired and sore
And, I almost did not walk last evening
But,
I changed my mind at the last
And went ahead anyway
How happy I am for it
For whatever carried me to there
Away from my to dos
And into the fields
Tended by their own dear sky
A wind blew cool from the north
A welcome respite in a Texas July
Bringing along
Snowy whites and threatening grays
It surprised me
And caught me
In a bubbly sparkling rain
How still I stood
To listen
To a thousand fairies
Dancing from leaf to leaf
In joyful innocence
Open the eyes of your heart
Their silvery wings whispered to me
And so I turned
From beneath the cover
And protection of the juniper
To see
An enchanting bow of faded colors
Filling the air with hope
And my dreams with surrender
I imagine it to be a circle
And wonder where it travels to
Beyond where I can see
Into a brightest elsewhere
Of love’s eternal hide and seek
How very grateful I am
That wonder called to me
And I listened…

Behind every poem is a fullness of thought. So it is with this one. On a July day, I planted sweet potatoes. I walked to a hilltop where rain caught me. I marveled at a rainbow arching over field, forest and home. And, I listened.
Recently I read a small book about cultivating silence. Thinking about silence suddenly makes you keenly aware of all the sounds that you hear. Silence reminds me to listen.

Even though everyone, including me is bestowing Happy Autumn wishes, it is still summer in Texas. It’s nearly October and this very minute I hear the sound of the sprinkler rhythmically turning under the holly tree, splashing everything in its path.
Hummingbirds are performing a brilliant “cirque de soleil”. I am the lucky soul with a free front row seat! They twitter and hum as they playfully zip-zing and then rest for a time among the prickled leaves. The hummers eat more in September than at any other time of the year. I think it’s because they’ll leave me soon. They’re fattening up before their long journey. I wonder what their tropical getaway looks like and whether they miss the holly tree.

Those sweet potatoes that I planted are so cheerful! If I can keep Jack and Dobby from romping through them they will grow all the way into December. I giggle that I find so much to love about them. You see, I’ve never liked to eat sweet potatoes. When I was a child I couldn’t stand them no matter how deliciously you dressed them up. Even marshmallows made no difference to me.
Gosh Mimi, those sweet potatoes smell good.
Would you like some, suzanne?
No thank you.
In truth I probably made a squinchy face and said Blech as they were heaped on my plate. If only I had had Bo back then. He would have sat blissfully at my elbow scarfing down every yucky bite I snuck to him. But, that’s a story for another day, aptly titled – The Dog Eats Half My Food!
Now, I eat sweet potatoes twice a year. They’re fine. But, I will never be a fan.

However, I do love to watch them grow. They create a twirling elegant vine. In autumn I buy them fresh at farmers’ roadside markets. Some I cook. The rest wait to be planted the following spring. I know, July is nowhere near spring. I was incredibly late this year. Nevertheless, in the ground they went.
I didn’t have very high hopes for them. After all, we were heading into the hottest driest part of the year. Who plants anything in July?! This year, I did. And, you know what? They have grown above and beyond my expectations. They are the happiest little patch of heart shaped leaves and curling tendrils that you can possibly imagine. They have spread like a low lush forest. You never can tell who might be playing in there…
Back to that July afternoon –

There was rain! Fluffy clouds rolled in and surprised me. It hinted of champagne. A cork joyously popped!! Bubbles spilled over the edges and the sky winked at me as if there was something special about this moment. And there I was caught right in the lovely center of it. I can still hear the drops cascading around me in my secluded hilltop waterfall.

There was a rainbow! Have you ever noticed how silent they are. Not a single sound. They come and go without ever crying out or begging to be seen. How many do we miss because we are occupied in thought or in doing. But this one…I heard. In its own gentle voice it rhymed and sang and invited me to dance. The colors gathered me and sailed me to far away places…into enticing dreamscapes as I wondered where its other half might be. I stayed and stayed not wanting to miss a single tender hue or precious step.

And, then there were sweet potatoes. They lay quietly in their dark underground cavern listening…to the earth and the rain and the colors of the rainbow telling them All that they would become…in time.
The last few months have been parched. I don’t have an answer. Sometimes life is like that. Dry and dusty. You wait, for rain and for hope to come. In the meantime, you do what you can. Turn on the sprinkler. Enjoy the hummers. Be someone’s rainbow. And, listen to the sweet potatoes grow…
May your spirit find refreshment in listening to the soft and silent things that touch your heart.
Suzanne ❤️

****
ellie894 September 29, 2019
Note there are no photos of actual sweet potatoes or casseroles in this post because…you know, reasons. 😉

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

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

When I look into the sky
I feel the reassuring blue
Embrace me gently
And the softness of the clouds
Settle in my soul
When I look into the water
I feel the sky there too
And for a moment I forget
That it is water and not sky
Until a dragonfly dips for a sip
Or a faery lands unnoticed
Or a silvery fish
Arises from the depths
In much the same ways
As a raindrop rests on the cloud
Or an eagle soars the breeze
Or a wishing star falls
Into an open heart
The two worlds, a mirror of each other
There are ripples then
That make it seem
That the wind blows
Among the reflected trees
But it doesn’t
They are as serene and peaceful
As they were moments ago
When I remember it is water that I see
I lose myself in wonder
At what magic
Falls and flies within it
That is as yet
Quite invisible to me…
****
ellie894 July 2, 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