Water

I’m drawn to the water to the sounds and smell of the sea 
A search for the perfect place to watch the dawn spill 
Across the endless moving waves 
A rainbow of color that dances across the horizon and water 
Whitecaps crashing over rocks rhythmic, thunderous, pounding 
Water sprays a layer of salty mist into the air 
As daylight turns to dusk water and sky merge into one 
The sun slowly sinks with a final burst of color 
Filling both water and sky with a soft dusting of color 
Dusk moves into night as the water continues its movement of life 
And moonbeams shine its light across an ocean of timeless waves  


It was still dark as I climbed the mountain of rocks along the ocean. I saw there was a small natural cave that had been carved out over time. With coffee cup in hand I sat, waiting for the start of a new day. As the first light of the day started to show I could see, in the small hollows between the rocks just below my feet, tiny sea creatures. I watched them sway back and forth as each wave of water rose up the cliff. No one was on the small beach and I felt as if I were the only person in the world. An incredible sense of calm and peace settled deep inside my mind and spirit. I spent most of my day nestled inside my little cave. At times I would venture out to feel the spray of water wash over me. I would bend over and see shells that had been washed up, carried to the cliff by the waves. Each little space had it's own type of tiny water creatures, shells and rocks. When dusk began to fall I left my private space; I took a bit of time to collect some rocks that had been made smooth over hundreds of years of water washing over them and gathered a few shells that to me looked unique. To some it may seem as if I had wasted a day. To me, the water calmed my spirit and the sprays that fell on me cleansed the parts of me that were negative and kept hidden inside. Once again it was dark as I climbed down the cliff. That night I had a deep, dreamless, and peaceful sleep.

What Does Society Consider Normal?

To many people it is not unusual to hear others express their frustration, anger, disappointment. At times we ourselves have similar feeling and voice the same things, venting our negative thoughts and emotions. But with some it is such a common event that even though you hear the words you do not listen to what is being said. Oftentimes the entire event is forgotten as soon as the other person stops talking and walks away. It makes me curious when I see this happen. Are we so busy and wrapped up in our own lives that we truly don’t care about what others have to say or what feelings they are experiencing? Have we become so accustomed to the negativity that surrounds so many people that we just accept it as normal and keep moving on with our lives? 

As true as this may be, the opposite seems to happen when expressions of happiness and joyous times are shared. What would happen, what would people think, if you were to suddenly do a happy dance in the middle of the sidewalk, in plain view of everyone around?Imagine people’s reaction be if they heard you burst out in laughter or song; wrap your arms around yourself in a hug with a big smile on your face. Would people stop and stare? Would they be uncomfortable? Are these emotions people ought to keep to ourselves? Maybe there are people who have never experienced the tingle of happiness that springs from within.Is it possible they have forgotten what joy looks and feels like? Maybe some people are too concerned about what others may think of them if feelings and emotions such as laughter and excitement were openly expresse. Have we become a society where spontaneous bursts of happiness have become suspicious and unacceptable? Are we a society that has chosen to believe that negative is the acceptable norm and positive is something to hide? 

If given the choice of grumbling about raindrops on your clothes or dancing in the rain, what would you choose? Would you follow the crowd and escape the dampness or would you go your own way, laughing as you splash through puddles of water? What is more important to you, what others think of you or what you think of yourself?

 

Wonder and Imagination

      I see a kite dancing high in the sky. I wonder what it would feel like to be able to fly. I imagine the tail giving a great big push. The kite leaps high in the air with a great big whoosh.

      I look up through the air and see a floating balloon. I wonder if it's dancing to its own special tune. I imagine being asked to climb in for a ride. Together we will soar with the clouds in the sky.

      I hear a rooster as he begins to crow. It must be daybreak but how does he know? I imagine he has his very own clock. An alarm lets him know it's time to wake the block.

     I lie in my bed watching the stars and the moon. I wonder why they won't let me see them when it's noon. I imagine they're playing a game of hide 'n' seek. What fun it would be if I could catch a peek.

     Lightening bugs appear as day turns to night. I wonder what it is that makes them glow so bright. I imagine they giggle as soon as you come near. They turn off their light and magically disappear.

     I look at the seashells that decorate the beach. I wonder if I stacked them together how high would they reach. I imagine they would rather be drifting the waves rolling across the sea. Gently floating on the water so light and free.

     I see a rainbow rising up through the trees. I wonder where it will end, can you tell me please? I imagine it stretches all across the sky. Beauty created simply to give pleasure to the wondering eye.

     I watch the snow fall softly onto the grass without any sound. I wonder how many flakes need to fall to cover the ground. I imagine they are looking to land in a special place. Maybe they will land all across my face.

Sleep has eluded me tonight. I lay in bed with so many thoughts going through my head. They are completely random and disjointed. One thought or idea has nothing to do with the next. I get up and grab my paper and pen. I find when I do this I will either become too tired to write or my pen will flow across the paper with uncensored words and phrases. Tonight I sat there thinking about a number of things. As I wondered words started to appear on my paper. I let my mind wander and wrote whatever thoughts came into my head. I read the words on my paper, the disjointed thoughts that had come from my mind. There was nothing left to write and my head was quiet. Paper and pen were put away for a later time. I was no longer fully awake, sleep no longer eluded me. I woke the next morning rested and with a quiet mind.

A Little Girl

A little girl looking for tenderness and love
A little girl longing to be cherished and cared for
But no arms open wide to hold her
No words of love whispered in her ear
Rules change without warning
Right one minute wrong the next
Always a bother always asking for trouble
Words get twisted, turned around and used against her
Taught she deserves to be punished
Running to the school yard covered with welts
Swing high then higher escape into the clouds
Don't speak, don't act, don't think, and don’t feel
She has no right
Hiding in her room, stays out of sight
She understands she's not to be seen and
Attention brings hurt and pain
Tears run down her face she wishes for what she can't have
A little girl with hopes and dreams
Of being loved

A few years ago there was an 5-yr old child living down the street from me. Her mom had passed away and her dad did not act like a parent to her. She came to my house often, always dirty, clothes never clean. DFS had been to the house but nothing was ever done to help her or teach her dad basic care for her. After seeing her always running around the neighborhood with no supervision, always hungry, made fun of because of her looks and smell I couldn't just stand by. I bought her a couple of dresses, shoes and socks, and we made a game out of taking a bubble bath and washing her hair. She let me keep her new clothes here...I said it was to make sure she didn't forget them before going to church.She came over almost every day but like clockwork she was at my house at dinner Saturday evening then ready for her bath, to spend the night, and go to church the next morning. She always wanted to look "pretty". I knew that was her way of wanting me to french braid her hair and having her nails painted..This continued for a few years. At times she would slip and call me mom. It made me both happy and sad. Happy that she felt safe and loved, sad because her mom was not there to take care of her like a mom should.

One day she did not come to the house. I wondered why but did not think too much about it. Two days, three day went by and no little girl. She was gone, taken from her dad. For years I never knew what happened to her and prayed she was in a safe and loving place. Not long ago, on a Sunday morning, my doorbell rang. There stood a beautiful young woman. We both just stood there looking at each other and I had a feeling I had met her before. She finally broke the silence and asked me if I remembered her. My little girl had come back, precious and beautiful. I cried when she asked if she could hug me then cried more when she did not let go of me.

We talked for quite awhile. She told me where she had been and what she had been doing all these years. She had just come back to town two days before and celebrated her 17th Birthday the day before. She said the first thing she wanted to do was to come see me. She told me she was on the High School honor roll, taking honor's classes, and was involved in the school music program. More important, she was a happy, bubbly young lady...a far cry from the last time I saw her. As she was leaving she gave me another hug and said, "Thank you for everything you did. I never forgot you or how you took care of me when I couldn't take care of myself. I never forgot all the love you gave me."

A little girl just looking for love. Sometimes you do the right thing and never find out if your words or actions have left a mark on someone. But there are times, like when my doorbell rang, when you are truly blessed by both seeing and hearing how your behavior has helped even one person.

My Sunrise

This morning the sky is a soft pale gray. It reminds me of a blank canvas waiting to be drawn upon. I stand watching and waiting to see what colors will be used today to decorate the sky. The top of the hills are the first to greet the morning. First hint of light touches the frost on the grass and sends a rainbow of glitter across all the land.The top of the sun inches its way up over the horizon. Rising and stretching it is in no hurry to rush into the day. A sprinkling of thin clouds begins to drift in front of the sun. Their lazy movements across the sky throw patterns and shadows down through the hills.

Colors slowly begin to paint the morning air. Clouds hanging just above the ground absorb light and turn their dark shadows into muted shades that send out a glow from behind. The first rays of light look as if paintbrush dipped in red and orange has swept across the sky. The colors form a blurry line just above where the sky meets the earth. Another stroke of the brush, layered above the first, is dipped in pinks, yellows, and a touch of purple. The trees in front of the horizon mirror the colors in such a way that it looks like fall has arrived again, painting not just the air but also the leaves swaying in the early breeze. What was an empty canvas only minutes before has now turned into a sky filled with bright and vibrant colors.

The sun keeps rising above each stripe of color. One last push and you can see the entire circle of the morning sun. The air seems to shimmer as the sun climbs higher ad the light spills over the land. A new day reaches its full glory and the first colors of dawn mix together. They rise into the sunlight, their resting place until dawn calls upon them again.