A picture of a sunrise. 😉 Enjoy!
Love and blessings, 💕 Carrie
Yes. It Is A Glorious Morn!
He flies to see. The sun rise above the trees.
Puffed to keep warm. Waiting to sing his
glorious song. I should be facing the other way,
so I can watch the sunrise, today. Yet here I face,
this little bird. Watch as he waits patiently for the morn to unfold.
I truly feel blessed to share this morning with such a lovely being.
Something Other Than Snow.
A bit of red from a large red flower
is enough to brighten any day
possibly take away the grey.
Bleak Grey, Winter’s Grace
The sky, solemn in it’s winter grace.
Bleak grey and spitting snow in my face.
Like life I try to see, the beauty of this grey,
bleak sky. Blanketing the world in black and white.
Yet I know somewhere, there is color to be found.
The splash of red from the cardinal,
the deep green of the evergreen trees,
and the quiet brown of the earth,
where the snow has not stuck. It’s there,
if I look for it. Color and light can be found.
Holding space for the bleak grey days
of winter’s grace.
Dance With Me.
The trees asked to line up in the fallen snow
and dance. Bring on the rhythm, grace, and play.
Beauty. Now, they becon. Dance with me.
Ahem…Can You See Me?
Sometimes those branches really pop out at me. 😉🙃
Feathery Light
Blanketing the world in white fluff
falling gently on branches and ground.
Turning my hair white. My soul light.
The birds sing and dance from whitened branches.
All seems possible in these moments.
When Was…
When was the last time a conversation was exchanged
with more words than raspberries and giggles. Whispered
sniffles and delighted screams. Oh, I do not know,
but I think it appeared on a dream as summer came to an end.
Dew fell on the grasses and I bent to the wind. Fallen silent as I
contemplated the irony of it all. Escaped my mind to find…
When was the last time I danced with abandon. Not a care in the world.
Oh, yes. Yesterday. When that song came on the radio, and the mop
became a friend and we danced. Between fits of giggles and high
pitched squeals of delight, not mine, but yours…
and well…I stopped some where, between the moments,
longing for when…as the last time did not matter. No. This time,
right here. Was. All. That. Mattered. Is all that matters.
Living fully in the moment, whatever that may be. 🙃
Love and blessings, 💕 Carrie
The Grocery Store Giggles
Oh, how I could harness a thousand days
to step into one moment where that giggle
echoed across the aisles. Lifting the hearts
of our masked faces. Raising us up in one joyous celebration.
It was the joyous sound of the infant in the cart next to mine
who discovered the pleasurable sound of a crinkling chip bag.
May we all be blessed to find joy in the simplest of pleasures and laughter to fill our hearts.
Love and blessings, 💕 Carrie
Poetry
The poetry fell all around. Bouncing off the ground.
Rhyming then not rhyming. Flowing then breaking.
Moving through the soul. Poetry is life. We see.
It’s written in the folds. The narrow spaces.
The open places. The air in between. Poetry.
It’s in the veins of all living things. It’s in the soul
of all. Animate and inanimate. It breaths.
Touch poetry, and it will touch you.
