Life never stands quite still,
Yet change never comes in a day, an hour, a minute.
Change runs like the tide,
Rivers through rock, always winding,
Finding their way back home.
There is a power in moving slowly, in taking the time to carve canyons from the mountains,
The choice to continue to move with the motion instead of hold fast against.
One sunny day in April will not change the mountains I climb or the miles I have to go.
I can only choose to hold good days in my heart and string them together,
Let life be good when it is not perfect,
Expect from myself what I expect from my plants on my windowsill –
Sunshine, water, time, to grow.
Silly Little Love Song
This is my silly little love song,
To the smell of the leaves in the air,
To the sunshine,
To the gold in my hair,
To the electric tumble of springtime,
To the feeling that there is something on the horizon to look forward to.
This is my ode to you.
The sun is shining.
I roll down the windows and turn on the radio,
What you feel is what you are.
The branches wave at me as I drive past,
Spring has blossomed into being.
I let the warmth of the air kiss me good morning.
The sun wakes me through the window this morning.
Baseball hats are out,
The trees unfurl into the light.
Life is bright this Sunday morning.
The sun is out.
I drive as if I can roll back time.
It’s a beautiful day,
Like all of the ones that have been,
And next week the sun will shine again,
Over green valleys and hills.
It is strange that the end is so beautiful,
But I remember the first long drive down that road that leads home.
I tap the radio dial,
And the cattails are growing new stems on the side of the highway.
Life, in this place,
Has come again with the spring,