Roots

Some habits
are hard to break;
walls difficult to penetrate.
You are traveling uphill,
until you aren’t
and just like that,
a trigger;
a deja vu’ moment
and it is feeding time,
again.

Some memories
are engraved in the subconscious
where music still plays
that old song
that opens wounds,
sparks voices

saying you are never enough.

Hush the winds,
pick up the pieces
from all the places you fell
lay them down.
the weight is not yours
to carry.

Rest.

.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 27. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤ (I fell a little behind, but won’t quit.)

In Your Backpack (Vignettes)

i.
Carry love,
release it like butterflies
across the morning sky,
filling every leaf on every tree,
each blade of grass,
each fragile flower

with song.

ii.
Carry rhymes in your pocket
like crumbs for birds you pass;
heart on your shoulder,
open and freely given.
There is risk,

but oh, the reward!

iii.
Carry his words
from mountains to valleys
to every hidden corner;
from every upper room,
to every basement
until there is no space
unfilled

by his love
and grace.

.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 26. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤ (I fell a little behind, but won’t quit.)

When Night Meets Morning Sun

Purple and gold collide,

stars dance
around the shadow
of the sun;

a poet pauses …
to reflect in the moment;
a glimmer of light
leaving constellations waltzing
in her eyes,
heart, exhilarated in the thought
of that one great poem

that makes nature stand still;
stops breezes mid stream,
swirling

into a never ending river
of peace.

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.I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 25. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤ (I fell a little behind, but won’t quit.)

Lasso The Wind

It’s a constant battle

syllables swirling
through the mind,
pausing to touch nerves,
activate senses;

pain resting
upon the heart.

Doubt steals peace,
interrupts sleep,
halts your steps,
binds your blessings.

Lasso innuendos in the wind

Let morning light
bring clarity to a new day;
another chance to shine.

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.I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 24. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤
(I fell a little behind, but won’t quit.)

Resolution

She pens her dreams in Calligraphy
in notebooks; on Starbucks napkins,
in manuscripts filled with poetry,
but they sit on shelves
collecting dust,

pulled out every New Year’s Eve
for a repeat resolution.

Despite the nudges,
the 3:00 am reminders,
It’s the flaw we don’t speak of,

the ongoing shortcoming
hidden in third person.

It’s almost December 31st;

time to dust
again.

.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 23. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤
(I fell a little behind, but won’t quit.)

The Nest

If Only
I Could Keep You

in the nest
a little longer,

shelter you

from the cold;
from the cares
of this world.

.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 22. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤
(I fell a little behind, but won’t quit.)

The View From Your Window

It takes my breath
but, I look up,
realizing

we love
under the same stars.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 21. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤
(I fell a little behind, but won’t quit.)

When a Last Ditch Effort Goes Awry

This time, it wasn’t a letter
marked return to sender,
but rather, words
stamped into my memory,
stomped into my heart.

Everything became a blur after
“but, I would rather not.”

You didn’t even sign it,
just signed off
on me.

The good news is
I have a Father;
one who accepts me
with all of my faults,

laughs with me
in my celebrations,

walks beside me in my trials,
oh, my Emmanuel
holds me when the pain gets to be
too much.

Just as he does for sparrows
and lilies of the field,

he will provide.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 20. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤
(I fell a little behind, but I won’t quit!)

Driving Down West 7th Street

They took down the honeysuckle vine
that hung over the front porch
just within our reach,

the bush that bloomed red berries
just before Christmas every year
and the beautiful garden,
lined in purple petals.

The house is white now,
(even the red bricks.)

They tore down the swingset
with the seesaw
(our rocket to the moon,)

and the screened porch
where we watched cardinals;
Grandpa doing bird calls
until Grandma called us
for breakfast.

It was nice to revisit
my safe place.

Maybe I will plant some violets.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 19. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤

How Much More

Worry is a thief of time;
of precious moments
meant to be treasured.

Tomorrow, the sun will rise
over green fields, meadows
and mountains
as sparrows flock
over gifted morsels;

the lilies, flowering,
sway in all their glory

and so shall you be adorned

as rays of light
peek through the curtains

upon pink cheeks;
sleepy eyes awakening
to see another day.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 19. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤

With Folded Hands

If I could play a harp,
I would strum love
into every chord;
sing your name in chorus,
attempt to waltz my way
into your good graces,
if only I could dance.

If I could write a symphony,
conduct on orchestra,
play a part in a scene,
I would bring down the house
with one mention of your name,

but all I have is poetry
to demonstrate my love
with folded hands
and praying lips

whispering your name
goodnight.

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I am writing a poem a day from November 25- December 25th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 18. . This is the 6th year that I have done this and it is a blessing. ❤

Light of The World