The evening rolls in,
sky rich in shades of ombre,
twilight softly glows.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I'm always looking for writing inspiration in everything around me. I may not always be able to unlock it in my brain at the moment, but I've come to appreciate life a little more each day. Kansas is the place I call home (and there's no place like home!). I love to read, go to movies, spend time with my family and friends, and hang out with our dogs.
Around the corner,
all it takes is the right turn,
and your life can change.
Dear Grandma Pauline,
It has been years since
you were called home.
I miss your quiet strength,
and your beautiful, kind spirit.
You were always the best combination
of Southern sass, heart, and grace.
I remember when you would
take my hand and
walk with me
to the store
down the street
and give me money to buy
“a little knick knack”.
And when you would make
homemade biscuits in the mornings –
fresh, flaky, and hot.
We would poke a hole in them,
pour in the thick, sticky sweetness
of Cane Patch syrup,
and eat until we couldn’t hold any more,
licking the goodness off our fingers
when we were done.
Or when we would sit on the front porch,
you in a rocker,
and me and the other kids on the porch swing,
drinking Coca Cola and sweet tea,
or eating melting icy popsicles,
the heat sweltering even in the shade.
But we didn’t care.
Grandma’s house was the place to be.
There are so many other memories,
so many other stories I could tell,
and each them has its own place
on the shelf in my heart.
I wish you were still here,
that I could sit with you
over a plate of blueberry cobbler
and vanilla ice cream,
or even while shelling butter beans,
and we could talk again.
I’d want you to meet you great grandchildren;
my son, an amazing young man
who likes to work with his hands,
and a heart that’s full of goodness.
And my baby girl, a teen full of character,
her presence and attitude larger than life,
with unique hazel eyes just like my dad’s,
your son, who is the reason
I knew you
and your light,
and I’m so grateful to be your family.
I knew you would have loved them
as much as you loved us,
as much as you loved me,
and they would have loved you, too.
I hope you look down and smile at them,
at all of us,
and know that we can’t wait to see you someday.
It was hard when you left,
and it was difficult to see you slip slowly away,
your health deteriorating before our eyes,
the bright spirit fading as physical pain,
and grief over Grandpa’s passing
took their toll on your mind and your body.
But you still shone with inner beauty,
the spark and glow of your beautiful soul
never dimming,
even when the darkness came
and took you away from us.
You still live in our thoughts,
and pictures still remind us of you.
Though we are apart now,
I will be more than ready to hug you and hold tight,
and I’m sure there will be line behind me,
waiting to do the same.
The sleeping fighter
has opened her eyes,
finally awakening
to her potential.
She has screamed
alone
In silence
for too long,
and it is now time
to speak
and let her voice be heard.
She picks up her shield
of inner peace,
cracks and chips visible,
but showing signs of healing.
Reaching down,
her fingers linger lovingly
on the hilt of the most beautiful sword,
born from tears and years of experience.
Lifting it up,
she admires the way the memories
have been built into it’s blade,
and knows that there are more
to be forged within.
She sheathes the weapon at her side,
and then clothes herself to meet the day.
Her face and her skin determined,
not showing forth the battle scars
that lie within,
her eyes the only window
to that shadowed landscape.
She bows her head
and takes a breath,
then stands tall,
squaring her shoulders.
It is time to answer the call.
She has been placed on this earth
to live life,
good or bad,
to make mistakes,
to do things right,
to show love and compassion,
and to navigate the ever-changing world.
Never alone,
she has support
and hope,
and each day is a new adventure.
Bring it on.
Summer sun and winter cold
are nothing compared
to the darkness.
Warmth and light,
cold and chill
can be felt,
but
deep
dark
void
is empty,
nothing,
a dangerous place
where
numbness
is contentment,
and complacency
feels right.
No growth happens
without rays of sunshine.
And no awareness
is present
without feeling.
Awaken to the world
that has erupted
into chaos.
Walk into the fray
and be the peace.
Bring a love for all,
show compassion
for every soul.
Do not let the wrongs
go unnoticed,
and do not let
the voices of justice
and mercy
be silent.
Lovely lusciousness lays before me,
and I can’t wait to do more
than just
whet
my appetite.
My eyes linger on
each
delicious,
delectable
detail,
and I’m almost
dizzy
with anticipation.
I longingly lick my lips,
a sweet sigh escaping softly
as my excitement grows.
Closer,
closer,
and closer still,
until it is all that I can see.
My whole world is filled
in this moment
by the brazen and bold
beauty before me.
I reach out
and take
what is mine,
unapologetically
brash
in my thrall.
I am unashamed
as I reap my reward,
finally
getting a piece
of my favorite
chocolate cream pie.
Breathe in –
fresh air and new life
fill every fiber of my being.
My very existence
is tied to the rush of wind
within my lungs,
each and every cell
grateful for the gift
that continuosly renews itself
as long as my body still moves
and my heart still beats.
Breathe out –
the old stale past
flows away,
leaving behind
a clean and empty slate.
Already circulated particles
pick up the pieces
of dirt and doubt,
and they are pushed out,
making room
for the next breath
to start the cycle again.
Huddled inside a shelter
of my own thoughts,
doubt the stakes in the ground,
self-loathing poles stretched tight
as fear created the covering above.
Hope waited outside the door,
patiently looking for entry,
and love sneaked in
through the cracks.
Any storms outside
were nothing
compared to the tempest
that raged within.
The demons and shadows
were slowly torn apart
as the wind of fortitude
and squall of resolve
blew apart the darkness,
and opened up to
the light of realization
and the beauty of inner strength.
No one else
understands my rhythm –
the music I hear in my head,
or the sound of my own special song.
I am who I am.
I sing what I want.
I dance with my own steps
timed to the beat of my heart,
and driven by the dreams
in my soul.