Mom Died Somewhere Between the Window Blinds

Mom died
Somewhere between the window blinds–
The sun took her home
In just a mere blink of the eye

She’s in a grave now, not far
from where she was born
A solitary place, in peace
What she wished her world to be

Morning sun is so important
Not just to hungry house plants
Leaning desperately in its direction
It awakens us all from our sleep
The darkness surrounding our light

Mom died
Somewhere between the window blinds
A place eventually light finds us all
Leaning in its direction
Hopefully to go home in peace

—–

Note: What do any of us know about death until our time comes? Maybe even then we know nothing about it. For all we know, death could be no more or less complex than light passing through the window blinds.

Rain When You Want Sunshine

It rained this weekend, again
I wanted sunshine
In the yard, in my life

I didn’t curse God
I just felt sorry for myself
Too much rain in my life
Too many days without sunshine
Too many things slipping through my fingers
Lost and wasted chances
Spilling on the floor
Cluttering my life
Like the dump where we shot rats
When I was a boy with hope, and dreams

It’s not the rain that bothers me
It’s the dreariness, the gloom
The heavy gray clouds pinning me to the muddy earth
Covering up the dream I hoped could be my life

Taking Us Home

This time we’re going back
To move forward
This time less will be more
Not more and more

This move will simplify
Clarify us inside out
Bring us into focus
Help us back home

We were getting painfully close
To losing what’s most important
Not money, what it buys
But what’s deep in our hearts

Hard times remind us
With some pain, what’s most precious
Certainly life itself
All it dreams

Losing Myself Inside a Japanese Wood Poppy

Stepping inside a Japanese wood poppy
I took leave of myself
As some mad man might veer off the highway to work
Only to find himself fishing
Along the banks of an idyllic stream

Not often enough we surrender ourselves
To that something larger
Contained in even the smallest thing
Like a tiny blade of grass
Or the petal of a spring daffodil

Why quibble over a name, or anything
Standing between you and beauty
‘Tis better to be naked of all words
Even poetry
Than miss a flower’s healing kiss