Dark Circles

Rest

like silken spider threads

I can see

but when I reach for it…

it breaks.

It takes

so much

to keep the light

of endless searching

for the right

path on.

But so I must,

and so I do,

carry on.

Life Is…

Life is

breaths in and out,

here and gone.

Life is

sunrises and sunsets

each unlike the other.

Life is

cycles of seasons

always changing.

Life is

as impermanent as

footsteps by the ocean’s edge.

Hard to Relax

Just trying to get back in the swing of writing.  (It’s been another loooong break period.)  I’m rusty, I know, but maybe with practice the muses will return.

I’m having a lot of trouble, and always have, with relaxing.  I always feel guilty afterwards, like there are things I could have, should have done.  I’m still working on finding my balance with this.

It is a never ending battle

for me,

the two sides of myself

always at war

always wanting more.

 

‘Hard work, goals, ambition

That should be every day tradition.

Plan and prep and ready be

for anything we cannot see.

Nose to the grindstone,

there are things to be done.

Resting is defeat,

the way our work is soon undone.’

 

‘Nay, life is lived but once.

Rest.

Enjoy, relax, breathe peace

take in the world at it’s best.

Put aside your list now please

take the time to look around,

the world, the smells, the sights, the sounds

loveliness here abounds.’

 

The two war back and forth.

Day in day out.

Guilting me in a tug of war bout,

til one side wins, temporarily,

and then the other whispers in my ear

and once again

I feel guilty.

Mommy Brain

I had heard of ‘mommy brain’ but I didn’t believe

my brain could be changed

from a lockbox to a sieve.

I had no idea that things that used to be a breeze

would sit. stuck. in. my. mind.

in a frustrating freeze.

Rhymes and ideas are now more of a struggle,

it takes time to piece them together like some kind of puzzle.

Maybe it’s simply the lack of sleep,

from all of the wonky mommy hours I now keep.

Maybe it’s the way my brain’s wired to your call,

your every breath and every need,

I wait for it all.

Or maybe it’s the way your smile makes my world spin,

how every giggle feels like a win.

Maybe my brain is just tied up in you,

preoccupied with all that you are and all that you do-

and maybe in time my two brains, the old and the new, will fuse

and I’ll have a super brain I can use.

Either way, my baby, I’m overjoyed you are here

And I’ll treasure this mommy brain year after year.

 

Written January 8, 2019

This Past Decade

Reflecting on a decade,

reflecting on a year

listening to echos of laughs

the ghosts of sighs and tears…

Remembering the good times

the sad and all the rest,

looking down a long road tread

and all the paths we thought were best.

We are who we are today

because of what has been.

We are shaped by what we learned

and now we can begin

to start all over

and start right where we are.

As the clocks roll forward yet again,

the old year written in the stars.

Your Secret is Safe

The sun and the moon,
they know where you roam
they know where you are,
and just how far from home;
the stars, they have seen you
so late at night,
they’ve tickled and touched you in playful starlight.
The clouds have whispered wispy hellos,
they too know where you’ve been and where you will go
(but you must listen closely
they speak quietly and low.)

I shouldn’t be jealous of salty sea waves,
save for the fact they have seen you for days,
they have smiled at the stars and shone back at the sun,
they have whispered to the clouds
and sung to the moon as it hung,
but as soon as the water touches down, reaches
the warm earth of home on the sand of the beaches-
all that is heard is a rush-

of hush.

For neither the sea, the clouds or the stars will reveal your secret,
with the moon and sun they’ve made a pact to keep it
safe, still, silent as stone
until you come back,
until you come home.

Overactive Imagination

An unexpected noise, a start
floods a fast and fluttering heart
with unnatural possibilities
the eyes can’t see
in a room painted in the night’s secret shades.

After a time of quiet the feeling fades,
but lingers still on breaths of imagination
the heart listens more softly, but quickly in anticipation
of the unknown just beyond the safety of the sheets.

Working on my first story book…

I’ve been encouraged by my family and friends to write and illustrate a children’s book.  While I have been writing poems and have had little ideas here and there I’ve never really REALLY tried to take the process further.  My biggest step so far has been in creating this blog and sharing what I’ve written with the blogging community.  I have so enjoyed the feedback and motivation from other writers on this site (even though life has sent me several pauses in my evolution as a writer.)

I’m hoping that my friends on this platform will help me as I try to turn my idea for a children’s story into a reality.  I’ll chronicle my process on here, but would appreciate feedback, comments and help about my piece and the publishing process if anyone out there has experience with that.

So without further ado… here is my story that I’m working with currently.  I hope to do some rough illustrations soon.  Comments and feedback is appreciated!

The Choo Choo Flu

It was a beautiful morning when the conductor made his way out to work on his very favorite train, Steamer Stu.  The birds were singing, the wind was warm, and there wasn’t a cloud in the bright sunny sky.  The conductor tipped his head back and closed his eyes, resting for just a moment before beginning his busy day, when suddenly he heard a loud,

‘AAAAAAAHHHHCHOOOOO!!’

“My goodness’ thought the conductor.  ‘who could possibly be in the yard so early in the morning?’

He hurried around the corner to see Steamer Stu sniffling in the rail yard where he had been parked all weekend.  Stu didn’t look good.  His nose was all runny, he sniffled a lot, and when the conductor placed his hand on his engine he was really quite hot.

The conductor made his way around the locomotive looking here and there, inspecting and checking Stu with great care, before stepping back, his diagnosis complete.

‘Stu it is clear from your sniffles and sneezes, your puffs and your coughs, and your aches and your wheezes that you have come down with a case of the Choo Choo flu.  I’m sorry to say there will be no trips on the tracks for you today.’

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHCHOOOOO!!’ sneezed Stu ‘Are you sure it’s a case of the Choo Choo flu?”

“Certainly,’ puffed the conductor, ‘and there is only one thing to do.”

Now the conductor had seen this flu before, a long time ago, and what’s more he had helped the poor train get better and quickly.  The only problem was he couldn’t remember the Choo Choo flu cure for a train that was sickly.

‘Ah yes!’ he exclaimed ‘I remember what’s needed to treat Choo Choo flu!  I’ll be right back.  I’m going to buy you new shoes!’

Is that what you’d do to help Stu fight the flu?

‘Wait, no… that doesn’t sound right.  I think the best way to cure Choo Choo flu is, oh yes, to spend the day at the zoo!’

Is that what you’d do to help Stu fight the flu?

‘I don’t think that’s right,’ Stu offered sweetly before he was cut off completely with another loud  AAAAAAAHHHHHCHOOO!’

“Hmm…now let me think.  Oh!  I’ve got it!  Open wide and say MOO!  Chocolate milk is the trick, open up, drink it down now and quick!’

Is that what you’d do to help Stu fight the flu?

No, of course not.  That wasn’t the cure and Stu wasn’t feeling up to very much more.

‘I’m tired.’ He sniffled.  ‘I think I need rest.’

Just then the conductor put his hand to his chest and found in his pocket a page from a book.  He opened it slowly and saw when he looked, the perfect way to help rid Stu of flu.  Can you guess what the page told him to do?

To cure Choo Choo flu a train needs only two things:

  1. Lots of hot choo choo stew
  2. Time for choo choo to snooze.

So the conductor made Stu some hot stew and he tucked him in tight and left him to snooze all day and all night.

When the sun came up the very next day Stu’s Choo Choo flu had all gone away!  So the conductor and he set out on the tracks, when the cars were all loaded and smoke poured from the stacks.   All that could be heard as they pulled away was a happy ‘Choo Choo!’ and a friendly, ‘good day!’