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.
Tag: poetry
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.
Winter Sun
Mysterious and elusive. You peek out
randomly. Showing your glowing face
brightly. Coloring the clouds. Brightening
the sky. Giving us a glimpse of light.
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.
Thank You Sky!
You often cause wonder and delight,
even on the days where I cannot see the light.
You, sky, remind me, I am just one being
in this vast and beautiful universe. Below you, I remain.
Humble and forgiven. Shining once again.
Because I see the wonder of this vast beautiful sunlit world.
Early Morning Snow
She falls quietly
feathery cold blanket
muffling the sounds.
Creating a quiet
soothing world.
Even the birds
chirp in muffled tones.
Whispering their good mornings.
My foot falls are quiet, too.
Causing the soul to be heard.
Whispering her wisdom.
Letting nature seep in.
Quiet hush of snow.
Hanging On…
One feathered friend
weathering this storm
hanging on
for the moment.
