NO WORD FOR GOODBYE

The Cherokee Indians have no word for goodbye.

If someone is leaving…then…

the word exchanged between them means: 

until we meet again.

I love that concept…no farewell statement

as one soars off to the sky.

No adios…no swan song.

No need to say goodbye.

There is some comfort in believing

they will again be seen…

no matter how long the interlude…

no matter how much time between.

Of course if you followed the teachings of the Cherokee:

If you believe in patience, in lending a helping hand,

if you believe the land does not belong to you

but you belong to the land…

If you believe in balance, in working together 

for the benefit of Earth and Sky,

if you believe in always doing what is right…

then when it comes your turn to die…

You will see your loved ones gathered round you.

You will smile at them…and then…

as you look each person in the eye

you'll say…until we meet again…

CONFLUENCE

In geography it’s called a confluence.

It’s such a lovely word.

It’s where two bodies of water come together

and meet to form a third.

The geography is not specific…it can be two rivers…or it can be a few

and I think such a lovely word…can be used for people too.

When a family comes together…memories are shared and hearts are warmed

and in that moment of togetherness…a confluence is formed.

When old friends come together…smiles are shared and memories related

and in that moment of affection…a confluence is created

Individually we are wonderful creatures

as we flow along our space

but when we come together

something magical takes place.

We flow into one another…and something wonderful transcends

for we don’t know where our river starts…or where their river ends.

Yes, I think confluence is an enchanting phenomenon…

though it’s easy to explain…

how…when two or more bodies come together…

no two bodies leave the same.

ROCK AND ROLL

We were children of the ‘60s…we were hippies in our souls.

Our hair came to our shoulders…and we lived on rock and roll.

Today we do our rolling in the mountains …

where we listen to the trees…and take long walks

where we think about our life together…and paint messages on rocks.

It’s a tradition at our cabin…anyone who’s ever come her and reclined:

You can paint a rock and take it with you…but, please, leave one behind.

And that’s what’s happened over the years…rocks for all to see…

filling up our cabin……left behind by friends and family.

Yesterday the sun was shining…we were cooled by a mountain breeze

when we stopped to look at all our rocks…and relive old memories.

It’s a wonderful phenomenon… 

how in an instant…a moment and a memory are ignited…

and how…in another instant…

the two are reunited.

Now we’re in our 60’s… we’re still hippies in our souls…

and though our hair is a little shorter…we still love old rock and roll.

And we never dreamed we’d be this lucky…

listening to the trees…taking long walks…

And rolling out old memories…

in a bunch of painted rocks.

WHERE DOES BEAUTY GO?

“Honey!” he said carrying an old album, “let’s go back and remember when…”

She gasped to herself as he opened it, “I was so much younger then.

“Look how beautiful I used to be…and I’d sure like to know”

“As I’ve gotten older…where did my beauty go?”

“Oh I beg differ.” He smiled. “For this beauty you’re talking about

has never shown from outward in…it flows from inward out.”

“The same beauty I see in these old photos, still fills my heart with sighs…

It radiates from your heart…your soul…it’s reflected in your eyes.”

“What makes you beautiful today is something time cannot destroy…

It’s how you live each moment…It’s the way you fill your life with joy. “

“I think beauty is like the seasons and it’s not until we’re fully grown

that we realize each season of life…has a beauty all it’s own.” 

“It’s true you’re not as beautiful as in this photograph array…

that would be impossible…because you become more beautiful every day.”

“So as we turn these pages…as we stop along the way…

Remember you were only younger then…you‘re much more beautiful today.”

ON THE BACKHOE OF YOUTH

She climbed into the cab of a backhoe…you wouldn’t know she was 64.

Because there are times and places and moments…

age doesn’t matter anymore.

She has a friend, she’s had forever, who’s off in Switzerland…on a cruise.

Who seemed to get just as excited…over a pair of vegan shoes.

Still another friend they’ve shared since the time they all were three…

gets that same expression every time she hugs a tree.

As I watched her yesterday…I was immediately stung…

by how our bodies may get older…but it’s our hearts that keep us young…

And I made this revelation …that for all…should be foretold:

If you can stay excited over little things…you never will grow old!

If walking on a starlit night sometimes make you cry.

If you can stop whatever your doing…just to watch a butterfly.

If you still skip stones whenever you come across a river or a lake.

If you stick out your tongue in winter…to catch a cascading snowflake.

If the aroma of chocolate chip cookies makes you want to linger for awhile…

If listening to a chorus of birds…can still cause you to smile…

Perhaps we are like those trees her friend hugs…

our outside ages…yet deceives…

For inside we are constantly renewing…

and everyday we grow new leaves…

New leaves that get excited over backhoes…

over vegan shoes and hugging trees…

New leaves that will keep us forever young

until there’s nothing more to see.

WHAT DO CHILDREN KNOW OF LOVE

What do our children know of love?

It’s a mesmerizing thought.

For everything they know of love…

is what they have been taught.

It is the same with honesty and kindness,

compassion and charity…

The same with tenderness and forgiving

the same with humanity…

Parents, we have a great responsibility…

but consider this a plus…

for what they know of love

is what they learn from us.

That our children learn of love from watching us

is profound to contemplate…

as long as we remember…

it also works with hate.

INSPIRATION

I was walking in a forest when I stepped out of the trees

and saw a field of sunflowers dancing in the breeze.

I stopped what I was doing…I was suddenly entranced

and I wondered if it was sunflowers that first enticed people to dance. 

I was walking early one morning when what did I espy

but a mix of beautiful color's lighting up the sky.

And I stopped what I was doing…I felt a little faint

and I wondered if it was a sunrise that first enticed people to paint.

I was walking down a quiet path when my mind was drawn upwards

to the treetops where I was mesmerized by the singing of the birds.

And I stopped what I was doing…that early morn in Spring…

and I wondered if it was birds that first enticed people to sing.

I was walking by a mountain creek…as if caught in a dream

when I heard the melody of the water as it gently flowed downstream.

And I stopped what I was doing…as the water flowed away

and I wondered if it was the music of the stream that first enticed people to play.

Now when I look for inspiration…I remember where I was…

when I was out there walking…

for that’s what nature does.

A BUCKET OF ESTEEM

She grew up a happy child…in a happy home…

her own wonderland.

She loved nothing more than to walk the beach and play with her bucket in the sand.

Her parents allowed her to be happy, to play, to think…to dream

and turned her bucket in the sand…

into a bucket of esteem.

They began too fill her bucket with things they thought worthwhile.

In it they would drop a touch…a hug…a kiss…a smile…

Every moment spent together…doing nothing…having fun

watching clouds, counting stars…playing in the sun.

And everything they ever said to her…meant to make her smile

meant to make her dream…

seemed to find a home…in her bucket of esteem.

Wow! I’m proud of you! Great job!…You’re reaching for the sky!

I knew you could do it! I trust you! Congratulations!…Nice try!

As her bucket began to fill up…and then to overflow

the smile never left her face and her esteem began to grow.

Today her parents look at her and smile…

and if you happen to ask them why…

they’ll say: We’re confident whatever happens…

Her bucket will never run dry.

And so I wonder:

As we think about how to raise our children…

how to help them to be happy…

how to help them dream… 

Perhaps the best gift we could give them…

is a bucket of esteem.

IF I WASN'T SO UNLUCKY...

It was just my luck to be awakened by a noise out on the porch…

I walked outside to take a look…without a flashlight, match or torch.

I never found what made the noise but in that early morning breeze

when I looked up, in the dark of night, I saw stars twinkling through the trees.

The bridge we wanted to cross was closed…another unlucky break…

Except the road we ended up on encircled this beautiful lake.

We stopped to enjoy the view…which was not what we had planned…

We had a wonderful time…and met the kindest man.

Sometimes I wonder about my luck for it often makes me grin…

when I think back on certain moments of my life…and how unlucky I have been.

Like the time while on vacation in Chattanooga, Tennessee…

We took a wrong turn and ended up at the Moon Pie factory.

We stopped in to try their latest concoction…an ice cream sandwich loaded with fudge.

Were we unlucky or were we lucky? Sometimes it’s hard to judge.

And so I wonder…

Am I unlucky when I trip and fall…face down…right in the street

Or am I lucky because it teaches me to get back upon my feet?

Am I unlucky when I fail…when my chance for success is gone…

Or am I lucky because in failing…I’ve learned to pick up and go on?

Yes I wonder about my life and the all those moments that go amiss…

For If I wasn’t so unlucky…think of all the things I ‘d miss.

GENTLENESS

As I watched a storm cross the mountains yesterday then move off to the plain..

I thought: it’s not the thunder and lightning that grows the flowers

but the gentleness of rain.

And it made me wonder if we’ve been confused…if we’re getting the message wrong

that it’s not the loud, the brash, the cruel…but the gentle that is strong.

Is there not the roughest soil that a gentle rain can’t smooth?

Is there not the deepest heartache that a gentle touch can’t soothe?

Is there not the deepest sadness that can’t be eased with a gentle rhyme?

Is there not the strongest will that can’t be bent with the gentleness of time?

Don’t the full branches gently bow so we can pick apples off the trees?

And who hasn’t been cooled in the heat of day by a gentle summer breeze?

Gentleness is all around us…if we stop and look a while

A gentle walk, a gentle word, a gentle squeeze…a smile…

Perhaps the value of a life… is in something we already know…

How gently we live…how gently we love…and how gently we let go.

FOG

Fog enveloped us this morning…it was a beautiful sight to see

as it blanketed the mountain…the cabin and the trees.

I remembered back to when I was a child…when I first saw fog..and I…

thought fog was just a bunch of clouds that had fallen from the sky.

I didn’t know the science then…it’d be years till I was told…

I thought it was only Mother Nature…breathing in the cold.

Back then I didn’t take notice how it cloaked the ground, the ponds, the logs

Back then I didn’t understand there was beauty in the fog.

Now I know the pleasure of playing in the sun

Of counting stars in the evening sky once the day is done.

Of dancing in the rain…of listening to the frogs…

Of feeling the mist upon my face while walking in the fog.

I’ve learned there’s beauty in the silence…in ways we cannot see

In the fog, the rocks, the clouds, the sky…the flowers and the trees.

Fog reminds me life is ephemeral…when surrounded at the break of the day

I know, if I wait long enough…the fog will fade away.

And when it lifts there is no telling the wonders I will feel

As I see waiting under…the colors she reveals.

Today when I look out on a morning and I see fog…I sigh

For once again I’m happy the clouds have fallen from the sky…

WATCHING WHALES SLEEP

Have you ever watched whales sleep? What a wonderful adaptation.

They float effortlessly in the water… a kind of suspended animation.

It seems we’re similar in a myriad of ways

with our companions of the deep.

not the least of these…

is the way in which we sleep

We are both beautiful in sleep…

A time when our worries and troubles cease.

We become united in our serenity

our silence, our solitude, our peace.

And sleep is where our dreams are made…

be they simple…or extreme.

I wonder while they’re suspended in sleep…

of what do whales dream?

Do they dream of leaving the ocean?

Do they dream of touching the stars?

Would we be surprised if they could tell us…

how their dreams are similar to ours.?

And once again we understand…we don’t have to look very far

To see how like the animals we humans truly are.

Yes…we are born, we eat, we breathe…

we love, we die…we weep.

All things we realize we share…

while watching whales sleep.

SHADOWS

One characteristic shared by the sun and moon,

despite the obvious: they’re round,

is when they occupy the sky

they cast shadows on the ground.

They paint their shadows in black and white

from sunrises to moonsets…

constantly shifting shadows

ever changing silhouettes.

Their shadows are sometimes tall and wide.

At times they dance a beautiful ballet.

Every now and then they seem to hide.

And periodically they fade away.

Is this just one more example 

of Mother Nature’s reach?

Or could this be another lesson

she is trying desperately to teach?

As parents sometimes the shadow we cast

needs to reach out far and wide.

Sometimes it needs to shorten up,

other times to hide.

Our shadows are here to help our children

to dance a beautiful ballet

so our children can cast their own shadows

once our shadows fade away.

Mother Nature’s wisdom is amazing

she constantly astounds…

like reminding us while on her soil

we are but shadows on the ground.

WHEN DID YOU FALL IN LOVE

When did you fall in love I asked my grandma and grandpa one day

They were sitting holding hands, by now both old and gray. 

“I fell in love with your grandma…when I first saw her smile.

For her to fall in love with me…well…that took a little while.”

“But I was quite persistent…and one day, to my surprise,

I saw the same love I was feeling…reflected in her eyes.”

“Love is a funny thing.” grandma continued “You just have to accept it.”

“For often when you fall in love,…is when you least expect it.”

“I understand falling in love,” I said, “for that has a certain allure.”

“But how, after all these years together, does that same love endure?”

They smiled simultaneously as if their thoughts were syncing 

They’d been together so long now…they knew what each was thinking.

“The key for us is simple.” Grandma said, looking Grandpa’s way…

“We didn’t fall in love just once.” He said.

“We fall in love every day.”

HAPPY EASTER

In a world that’s fraught with peril…when it’s sometimes hard to cope

Easter is here to remind is…there’s always room for hope.

We hope for a better world than this…and though we may be disheartened by what you see

It is our hope and not our unhappiness that shapes our destiny.

Hope is believing there is light in the midst of darkness…

with hope in my heart is how I run…

and though I may be disappointed with today…

hope rises tomorrow with the sun.

For the beauty in the future is the hope tomorrow brings…

I hope each year for the colors of Fall…that Summer follows Spring

I hope we all can realize..we have one home and Earth is what she’s named

I hope we’ll somehow find the courage to treat everyone the same.

I hope for a world of peace and love…where everyone is free

living their lives together…in friendship and harmony.

Living so that when each one of is gone..

we’ll be remembered affectionately

having left behind a sigh, a smile…

and a happy memory.

Yes, Easter is a time for optimism…a time to dream, not time to mope…

A time for love, a time for expectation…a time for all of us to hope.