a song so very whole…

 

Early I walked,

*

As the rain came bold

From a heavy sky

The drums, they thundered

Inviting me to dance along

Yes, I said

Without ever asking why…

*

Soft and steady

Stronger now

On and on they fell

My footsteps, and the rain…

Droplets gathered

On the tip ends of the trees

And not a word was written

Not one, not by me

*

But, they are waiting,

Closer than you think,

Can you hear them rolling in the thunder

Do you know them warming in your soul…

*

Slow yourself,

In a delicious kind of way

And, let the rain sing to you…

*

Let it take you in

Become a part of it

No longer a page,

Of broken notes

Instead,

….a song…so very whole…

It is enough to dampen your skin

But not your spirit,

Everything it touches

Echoes with a different tone

A harmony of melodies

Heretofore unknown

Discover yourself

…wandering,

no longer in the woods

but, through the very music itself

raindrops gently on the leaves

and the bark

and the pine straw floor…

here a piano

there a violin,

drums to the heavens

cellos to the depths

and yes…even upon

your soft wet skin…

the stage is simple…

the composer unseen…

and you the only audience

to this song of a lifetime

played within a dream…

Early I walked in the rain…

*

And so it is,

That I wrote

Nothing at all…

****

ellie894 March 8, 2020

smiling…

The sun is going down

The woods are oh so quiet

The pond lays like a mirror

The trees, all darkened silhouettes

No wind stirs and no bird sings

Only the coyotes begin to call..

…from somewhere far off

And high overhead

A sliver of moon…is smiling…

****

ellie894 February 29, 2020

Sitting at the lake at sunset. Listening to “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith

a lullaby for the cosmos…

I have been puttering at painting lately
In the evenings
Swirling things
Playful dreams
Just because.
I think I should try my hand, my brush,
At an elephant and a lotus blossom 
A morning is a funny thing,
Sort of where it begins
And how.
Why does this thought take hold
And not another.
I send a wish through sleepy eyes
Crawl out from the covers,
Sometimes begrudgingly
Usually with a note of what will come next
And, it does come next.
Those morning moments unfold
One beyond another..


Coffee, but not too much
A candle flame warms the darkness, but not too much
A zebra pen pauses over an empty savannah, but not for too long.
Lemonade and lotus blossoms..
I can’t quite stop thinking of them
Lotus blossoms and lemonade
They’re just there is all
In my wanderings, and they sound so lyrical together
Tart yellow citrus and a hearty flower
…the blossoming of enlightenment 
Mostly, I like the song they sing together 
But, I shall keep them close this day to see if they have another gift.
Everything becomes a piece of music to me
I’m not certain why
Nevertheless, I am grateful 
For the rock and the jazz, the country and the classical 
I love it all…



Today is Thorsday 
The day of Thor
Which sets me to conjuring a realm
Full of mythos and legend 
I cross the rainbow bridge
And climb into the world tree
I love that image
Of a world tree
With roots and branches reaching in every direction
So much farther than I could ever see
Home to an infinitude of life
Nearly unfathomable to me
Yet, I try to fathom it.
A gentle smile comes over me
As I imagine so many animals
From tiny to enormous 
Gentle giants and busy scurriers 
I suspect humans are the scurriers.
Have you ever watched an elephant
Listening to Beethoven
Played on a piano 
In wide open spaces..


How I would dearly love to spend my days in such a way as that
Making beautiful music for elephants 
How worthy…of time..
Imagine..zillions of elephants 
Living in the world tree
Swaying peacefully 
To the sounds of Moonlight Sonata 
The whole tree rocking with them
And, all the little ones 
Drifting to sleep
Under a midnight sun 
And a noontime moon
In the protective embrace 
Of the mighty world tree
…a lingering lullaby
For the whole cosmos…

suzanne
❤️
****
ellie894 January 30, 2020

I have decided!



I have decided,
To build The Wall.
It will keep Me in.
And, keep You out.
Yes!  It is a fine idea.
I have been counting the virtues of it,
..for quite a while.
Now, the time has come to build it, once and for all.
I have bricks and mortar piled up in the east.
Steel beams and girders are stacked in the west.
The plans are drawn out.
And, I shall begin this very day.
The Wall will be ginormous! 
It shall be taller than You can climb over, 
And, longer than I can walk around.
The Wall will change everything.
It will keep You out. 
And, keep Me in.
We will be safe and sound,
From each other.
There will be No more tea and cookies shared,
No more needless laughter,
No more such silly and dastardly things,
That get in the way,
Of being cynical and cranky.
There will be,
No more smiles to cheer Your day, 
Or hugs to remind Me that I am loved.
But, by golly We will have..The Wallllllllll
Standing between Us!
..that delightful wall..
Despicable….wall….
…..keeping me in..
.and you out………….
I wonder if I can return steel beams and piles of bricks..
I wonder if I can exchange them, 
For Flower seeds,
And sapling Trees,
To grow a Garden, 
Instead of a wall.
You see…
I have already begun to miss you so,
So…so…that dastardly wall,
It really must go.
I have decided!
I will not build it! 
Not now! 
Not ever! 
We will sow
We will plant
We will grow
Maples and pines
Sunflowers and roses
Lilies and lavender
Morning glories and moon flowers
And all manner of beautiful things…
Then,
We shall rest in the shade of the pines.
And…
There we will be..
You and me…
Over cookies and tea…
without any walls, 
And how very lovely that will be.

****
ellie894 January 20, 2020









fire will never be water…

One cannot blame the water for doing what water does

Anymore than one can blame the fire
All things of this world are simply what they are
They come and they go
Seeking solace and balance,
Their own sweet place in this odd turn of events
That we call life
Letting go of all they are not meant to be
To be only what they are
Fire will never be water
Air will never be earth
And me…
I am a piece of them all
I am the wind that blows, thoughts drifting through my mind
I am the land, a dusty shell that walks the path only for a while
I am the fire, created in a moment of passion,
Seeking to feed the flame
I am the water, life giving and nourishing, 
Deeper than can be seen
I am all of these, and spirit as well
The breath that comes from somewhere
The knowing that comes from nowhere
And if one by one they each left me…
What would I be then
Would I be anything at all
Or would I vanish in a flash
Buried in the dust
Drowned by the water
Burned within the flame 
Carried unseen by the wind
To a new place 
Not even imagined yet…

****

ellie894 December 16, 2019

and the wind came…

**
Nearly a whole moon ago
I lazed beneath a crystal blue
And above a glittering shimmering
One reflected in the other
As it came to be the same with me
Memory waltzed with thought
In a seamless dance of spirit
Three quarter time
In tune with the breeze
And with me
Once
Twice
And three times again
A butterfly
Appeared to the right of me
A monarch surprise
Wherever he came from
I know not
Which doesn’t matter much anyway
It is only special
That he found me
At the heart of a special day
Once
Twice
And three times again
I was mesmerized 
So out of place he was
Suspended between blue and blue
With no field and no flowers
Anywhere in sight
Leading me gently to ask why
Once
And twice
And three times again
As the wheel of life does turn 
Upon itself
So did he
To me
His wings sang of sunset
A feast of a thousand peaches
Ripened in an evening sky
He did not float in still air
Nor, did he fly strong and purposely
He was a winged mystery 
Powerless
In the face of the invisible 
Not fighting against the unseen
Instead, he let himself just be
And the wind came
And carried him 
To all the places 
He could never have imagined 
For himself.
Then, ever so gracefully,
Once
Twice 
And three times again
He fluttered near
And carried me there too…

****
ellie894 November 4, 2019
there was a butterfly that day, a stunning peachy tangerine one. Out of place. Three times he came to me from nowhere, over the water, under the sky and out of the breeze.

can a sweater be like a tango…

I want to begin with a where,
And a why,
And a sort of a how.
I want to tell you that the light is soft,
Whether it is the flicker of a candle or the glow of a lamp.
I want to tell you of the music,
As a piano dances, a violin takes to the sky and lyrics sink into the depths of me.


I want to tell you of my sweater,
The long gray one that falls to the backs of my calves, 
that sways with my every move, 
much like a tango, 
only with a more subtle flair.
Can a sweater even be like a tango…  
I wrote that over and again last night,
And deleted it each time.  
Yet, here I am writing it once more. 
Perhaps it wants to be written, and wants to be told. 
There are other thoughts too, 
Moments of nothing but cloudy mist,
Afternoons weary from searching 
The edges of dawn blushing at the very thought of what may be,


And, the way I love coffee with cream
In a small cup 
First thing.
And later in the day, tea
Also in a small cup
Sweetened with a touch of cane sugar
And stirred rhythmically 
With my favorite spoon.
Do you know why I love a small cup?
Because, I sip more than I drink,
I savor more than I gulp.
I like my brew hot…
Too big of a cup, and it goes…
…cold
It’s not meant to be cold,
It’s meant to be…
….hot,
…and steamy and bold.
So that the cup may warm my hands,
As the brew warms my soul…
That’s the way it’s meant to be,
Warming,
As the sun upon my face
As the love within my heart,
My hands hold gently
My lips kiss the edges
And I am embraced by the heat
So very completely…
That’s the way it’s meant to be
Hot…


****
ellie894 November 14, 2019





come with me…I shall give you something and take you somewhere

The Animal Family by Randall Jarrell


Is there anything so nice 
As curling up 
With a lovely book
A cup of tea
And something sweet…
*
Seven chapters long,
Reminds me of a week of days
How much longer it must have taken than that to create the tale,
To watch it become more than mere words
Illustration by Maurice Sendak

The mother, the father and the boy
Were shipwrecked on a deserted island
Time passed
As time does,
Whether there are clocks to mark it or not.
The mother passed
The father passed 
And, the boy was alone
But, he was no longer the boy
He was the hunter now

*
Evening after evening 
Her soft voice 
Called him to the shore
And to her song
Where the alone of him
Met the sea of her
And 
Lapped at his heart
As waves that wet the sand
And make it their very own

So, the mermaid 
Who had spent her whole life 
Swimming away from things
Left her watery world
To be with the hunter
In their island home
Now, they were two

*
Time passed 
As time does
And the hunter found the cub
The baby who would grow to be the brown bear
The hunter brought him home
The sticky honey loving bear 
Who curled up by the fire to sleep
Now, they were three
*
Time passed 
As time does
And the hunter found the kitten
The baby who would grow to be the lynx
The hunter brought him home
The playful purring lynx 
Who loved to give you somethings 
And get you to go to somewheres 
Now, they were four


Time passed 
As time does
And the lynx found a boy  
Who would become The boy
*
But, for now 
He was a crying baby in a shipwreck,
On that self same shore
Where the hunter had once been the boy in the shipwreck 
Where the calling song was sung
Where the mermaid left the sea
And the hunter had carried her home
Yes, that self same shore
With the heart-lapping waves


So with the help of the bear,
The lynx brought the boy to their home 
The one overlooking the sea
The hunter, the mermaid, the bear, the lynx and the boy
Now, were five
Just as one head, two hands and two feet
Are five
Held together by home and by heart
*
Time passed 
As time does..
…in every line of the tale
There was the whisper of the waves
On the shipwrecked island shore
Singing the song of belonging
Of
The boy, the lynx, the bear, the mermaid and the hunter
Who lived and loved
Who loved and lived
As time passed
As time does
For now and for evermore…


There were no a’s in this tale 
As an a could be anyone
Any hunter, any mermaid, any bear, any lynx, any boy
And there were no anyones in this tale
There were only someones
*
There were no names in this tale
But, names were not needed
Nor were they missed
I knew each someone well
As well as they knew each other
*
The hunter only ever hunted for one thing really,
What do You think it was…
And which The are You…

*

I recently read The Animal Family by Randall Jarrell.   This is my own retelling of it and how it came to find a home in the heart of me. It’s a charming story written in 1965 with a few very sweet illustrations by Maurice Sendak.  At the library it is shelved in the children’s section, and that is where it found me…

****
ellie894 October 14, 2019
Jarrell, Randall. The Animal Family. New York: Pantheon Books, 1965





faded colors, sweet potatoes and a shower of champagne…

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. 😉