writing, balance and my level-up life
Book One of the Legacy of the Night Ones series
Book Two of the Legacy of the Night Ones series
One view from the top of Deseret Peak
HIGHLAND AIR
After wind and sun, the climb
made bodies ache but souls feel new–
There’s never breathing more sublime
than highland air with a far-flung view,
than highland air I share with you.
When we descend this mountain peak
to life and days of lowland hue,
I think that I will always speak
of mountaintops and skies of blue,
of highland air I shared with you.
(#fridayphotopoetry) This was fun. I haven’t written poetry in a while.
SHARED DREAMS
I waited with my dreams in hand
(and some folded beneath my hat,
some in my shoes–but understand,
my heart still carried more than that).
And then you came with dreams to share
(and some seemed like my very own,
like garden scents too sweet to bear–
and some of them seemed overgrown).
We pasted, plotted and devised
(all collages built this way
have to contain the things we’ve prized,
or they won’t stand in Light of Day).
In future years, we’ll seek our dreams
(their colors faded, edges frayed)
and gasp to see Creation gleams
on dreams come true. (Look what we made.)
There’s more than soccer happening on this field–
the most innocent of souls have come to play.
There’s joy to feel and confidence to build,
hopes to share, and life lived a separate way.
Bench-side, I feel a burst of clarity.
One of these special champions smiled at me!
Have a great weekend, wonderful blogging friends. 🙂
There will always be steep places to climb,
swift rivers to swim and deserts to wander.
These are Life’s challenges; they claim my time
with riddles and puzzles I can’t help but ponder.
Sometimes, gratitude is my only goal.
I’ll find it on any-ways and every-wheres–
they are the adventures that try my soul.
(I’m glad some of them have stairs.)
At times it seems the world feeds me with bread,
With bits of crumbled dreams that build my own,
And warmth and joy, like sunshine on my head,
And friendship, so that I am not alone.
I sometimes wonder whether I was meant
To float on peaceful waters every day.
(I’m certain it would be a life well spent,
if I could simply learn to live this way.)
Happy Friday!
Lights in the darkness!
There are times I fade to black
and allow the night to stake its claim
upon my sorrow, guilt and shame.
I have to fight to not look back…
On the horizon, I see light,
the promise of a place to stay
until I find the light of day
that comes beyond the edge of fright.
And so I let each step go by
like shredded papers in a flame,
the ashes of my very name
rising like smoke into the sky.
I’m waiting for the end of Blaze,
when all that’s left is one last spark
rising up into the dark,
the promise of forgotten days.
There is this Dark Night of the Soul
that every ember has to face
before it rises to its place–
a phoenix, at last, complete and whole.
Busy!
I can’t stay away from growing things.
I feel compelled to look inside,
to drink the beauty nature sings–
my soul will not be satisfied
until I’ve tasted all the flowers
and ridden every springtime breeze.
(It’s just a way to pass the hours,
and I have one whole day to seize!)
An old grain silo at sunset, in North Dakota
As sun’s last rays fold colors into gray
and brightness into twilight’s solitude,
I stare down the scarce remains of Day
and gather all my strength, to change my mood.
Night-time is a song I love to sing,
so I find peace in every setting sun–
but deeper now, the solace Night will bring
comforts me. (I’m glad this day is done.)
Happy Friday, everyone!
A completely random side note–I’m hungry for Spaghetti Squash and haven’t been able to find any in the stores lately. Guess I’ll have to plant my own this year!
The dishwasher is running. The laundry is sorted. One daughter is studying chemistry, another practicing for her violin lesson, and my toddler is playing with his cars in his room. What about this seems unusual?
I think it’s just the I’m finally starting to catch up feeling that comes after a huge event.
Not that there’s been any huge event here…just a myriad of little things that seemed big at the time.
Yesterday was incredibly challenging that way. I woke with a knowledge that I had to start a new project, and it had to be right then. Every time I tried to work methodically, this project stared holes into the back of my head until I finally gave up. I spent the better part of the afternoon hammering out a decent outline and a first chapter of something I never intended to write–a political piece.
I promised myself I would never do such a thing. Now I’m not sure what I’ll do with it. I guess I’ll add it to my list of works-in-progress and just see where it goes.
This morning, I ran errands and did some shopping with two of my children, visited with the lovely BR Chaston about her wedding dress and nearly fell asleep on the way home. That meant I napped when we finally reached the house. Needless to say, now I’m staring at a to-do list that will refuse to be completed by nightfall, and that new project is dancing around the edges of my office, waiting for attention.
This time, it will have to wait.
Sometimes I don’t think my time management issues are all my fault. Sometimes I think my projects just don’t know how to take turns. They’re as demanding as any toddler.
I can’t help loving them.
On another note–I found poem I wrote in April but never published in my draft file. Rather than letting it sit there, I’m including it here:
Eastern Kingbird
There’s more to majesty than thrones or crowns,
or crowds of admirers, applauding, lauding praise.
There’s more, even, than power. Freedom rises,
calls the royal heart into the air.
My throne is any place from which I sing.
Have a great day, everyone!
She is a tender age for thoughts so deep
as those that sweep across her eyes,
furrow her brows and
pinch the corners of her mouth.
It’s as if she grows flowers in her mind
that must be tended carefully,
weeded and watered,
protected above all else.
She guards her garden with such great fervor
I sometimes wonder at her grace,
the instant laughter
that crinkles her eyes and nose.
Sometimes that laughter bubbles as freely
as spring flowers on sunny days,
bobbing in the grass,
watching for my own wide smile.
It’s something that I never can resist
and I find myself laughing too,
forgetting the anst
she endures to laugh so well.
