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

2021 http://www.carriedforth.com

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

2021 http://www.carriedforth.com

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.

2021 http://www.carriedforth.com

Saying Good Morning.

Good Morning! He shouted from the branch as I passed.

Good Morning, to you, I replied back. He headed for his breakfast.

I headed to the coup. Where the chickens waited chirping their

Good Mornings, too. Like it always is and will be, a good morning,

is something we all need.

Good Morning beautiful souls. 🙃 

Love and blessings, 💕 Carrie

2021 http://www.carriedforth.com

Holding Space

He did not want to go in. The air was full of changes. Colder and fresh with the hint of snow smell, not fallen yet, but filling the air with the anticipation of it. 

Libi was content. Happy to watch the squirrel scurrying up and down the trees. Occasionally swinging like a monkey from branch to branch. Libi liked when the squirrel did this. It reminded him of freedom. Of the weightless feel he got when he swam in the ocean or lake.

“Libi! Come, boy!”

Libi sighed. He did not want to go in. Not right now. Not while the world prepared for the snow. Not while the squirrel still played. He would go in in a moment, or two. Not now. No.

She stretched from the top of the porch as if she needed to get closer to him for him to obey. 

“Libi!”

He glanced over his shoulder. Letting out a faint sigh that spoke volumes as to what he would do.

A few moments passed, he heard her foot falls walk away and the door open and close. He sat on his haunches and gazed at the sky. Waiting. 

The snow would be fallen soon. He could see the white haziness of it in the distance. His body shivered with anticipation.

The sound of the door opening had his ears lift. He waited for his name to be called. Heard instead the faint squeak of the steps as she decended. Appearing by his side moments later. He glanced up at her with the love of his soul shining out of his mismatched eyes. 

She smiled down at him and patted his head as he leaned his large frame on her. Sitting half down on her feet and half on the ground. Holding her lightly in his presence. They both gazed at the sky and the world beyond. She lifted her steaming cup to her mouth. Sipped and watched as the snow arrived.

Falling in thick clumps. Libi opened his mouth to taste the freshness. She laughed at him. His exuberance for the world. His insistence to remain rooted to this spot as the storm arrived. He was so beautiful and reverent. Her eyes teared with the gratitude of his presence, of his willingness to hold space for her, and his loyalty.

The world needed more Libi, or maybe it needed more people willing and able to see the beauty of his being. The willingness he had to sit quietly and wait.

Whatever it was, she was grateful to have him in her world, and he felt the same.

2021 http://www.carriedforth.com

All, But The Sunset.

Whispers of the day,

thread through the pages

as the journal fills with hopes,

dreams, and those things in between.

Drying ink. Wiped away. Maybe this will be forgotten

someday. Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t. She really

has grown tired of holding all these hopes. 

The dreams flit from place to place. Landing

gentle on a smiling face. Held up and taken down.

It all continues to go round. Time has never stood still.

Sometimes I forget this but am reminded in the setting sun.

As I stand and watch it go down. Colors light and fade. Change.

Constantly. Until no more, but the violet of the night. Touched by

stars shining bright. As I have said before, all was as it is,

but the sunset clearly sees it.

2021 http://www.carriedforth.com