SUNRISES AND BUTTERFLIES

As they walked together, missing her, the daughter asked the dad

“How can the sunrise be so beautiful when I’m feeling so sad?”

How can I find beauty anywhere…in the trees, the birds…the butterflies

when everything is blurry…when tears fill up my eyes?”

“when my world has lost its color…when everything is grey…

when nothing that I see or hear makes my sadness go away?

“This sadness we are feeling,” Dad said…

there is no remedy…

no cure

but the trees, the birds, the butterflies and the sunrise

make it easier to endure.”

We cannot stop sadness from reaching into our lives…

but eventually we learn

If we have love, sunrises and butterflies

our happiness returns.

Her dad is no longer with her

and when she feels sad she smiles as she closes her eyes …

and she thinks of walking with him in the morning…

of sunrises 

and butterflies.

A NOT-SO-HIDDEN TREASURE

We’ve come to know her on our walks…she seldom wears a frown.

She’s up early, just like us, and drives her golf cart around town.

Everyone knows Freddy…she wouldn’t have it any other way

Saying hi to her is a tradition…a wonderful way to begin our day…

Sometime we stop and chat…she loves to talk…she isn’t shy

Oftentimes we just wave to her as she goes zooming by.

She is an emissary…an ambassador…one of our city’s oldest living members

She loves to tell her stories…and share all that she remembers.

Today we waved as usual until she beeped and pulled alongside

then asked if we were busy or would we like to take a ride.

We happily jumped into her cart…for this adventure…we were ready

I climbed into the back…while Deborah sat up front…right next to Freddy.

She said she was excited to show us something…She knew we’d be excited too…

She drove us to her house where the entire lawn was decorated…

It was her birthday….92

We wished her a happy birthday…actually we kind of had to yell

(Perhaps that’s why she talks so much…cause she doesn’t hear so well.)

We continued on our walk as Freddy drove off fast..forthwith

looking for another person or persons to share her birthday with.

As we watched her drive away I wondered if every town has a Freddy 

I imagine that they do…

someone whose been around forever…someone who’s 92…

And if you do…take the time to get to know her…

talk and wave…if she asks you…sit behind

for you never know where she will take you

or what treasures you might find…

HE DOESN'T WONDER ANYMORE

When he was young he wondered about love

He wanted answers…he didn’t want to wait…

He wondered how love happened…

from where did it originate?

So he went and asked his mother who said,

“I don’t know how it happens but from the very start

there is love in every one of us

It is born within our heart.”

Then she looked at his father then back at him

and her eyes filled up with tears,

“One day when you least expect it

love will just appear.”

Well that didn’t answer his question

And though he wasn’t mad

he was still a little bit confused

So he went and asked his dad.

His dad looked at his mother

then said, looking into his young son’s eyes,

“Love is like a gift you don’t anticipate

It comes as a surprise.”

“It is not something you can hold.” he said.

“You can’t sculpt it, mold or…shape it.

It’s a feeling that comes over you.

You can’t avoid it or escape it..”

Both parents said one day he’d understand

That right then he was much too small…

Which made him wonder if his parents

understood love at all.

Until the day he saw her… 

The day he noticed the smile on her face…

the day everything his parents said

fell beautifully into place.

He used to wonder about love

But that was then…

before

And though he still doesn’t have all the answers

He doesn’t wonder anymore.

HOW DO WE MEASURE UP?

The true measure of the greatness of a person, 

a town, 

a city, 

a country…

a people

is not in the fortunes we amass…

not in caring solely about ourselves

No

hopefully 

we will find…

before we are deceased…

the true measure of the greatness of a person

a town,

a city,

a country,

a people…

is in how we treat those less fortunate than us…

those who have the least.

MOM'S INNER VOICE

When she wondered if she had ever seen anything as beautiful as her baby

a voice inside her answered

Never

and when she wondered how long this feeling of love would last

that same voice whispered

forever.

MOMENTS SO SHORT

An old married couple was asked one day

what made their marriage so strong…

What has kept them together all of these years?

Why has it lasted so long?

They immediately began describing moments…

moments neither one would dismiss…

When he wipes a tear from my cheek….

When she sneaks up and steals a kiss.

When he hugs me for no reason at all…

When we pass and she touches my hand…

The scent of her on on my clothing…

A walk on the beach with our toes in the sand…

How he brushes the hair from my face…

The way she calls out my name…

The smile on his face when our eyes meet

The smile on hers is the same…

They went on and on for a while

with too may reasons here to report

proving a marriage so vibrant…so long

is made up of countless moments so short.

MANY TIMES

She said how happy she has been with him

then asked 

if he was happy too…

He smiled.

I’ve fallen in love many times in my life, he answered…

and every time…

with you.

FAMILY PORTRAIT

I took this family portrait yesterday as we walked along the beach…

our entire family could not make it…

some were sleeping…

others out of reach…

But I noticed through the camera lens as in the sand I knelt

even the family members who were absent…

their presence could be felt.

I don’t know how it happens 

but when I take a picture of my family…

I swear

I see the people in the picture frame…

and the ones who are not there.

Which makes every family photo…

a reason to give thanks…

as my eyes look at the picture 

while my heart fills in the blanks…

So once again I smiled as I snapped this picture…

suddenly filled with but one thought

how my entire family is always with me…

whether they’re with me…

or they’re not.

HAPPY THANKS-GIVEN

I had a friend with a unique way of looking at the world

(although I once thought she was misled)

because when the rest of us said ‘Happy Thanksgiving’

‘Happy Thanks-given’ is what she said.

It is a day we come together

and give thanks for all the ways we have been blessed

for our health

our happiness

our friends

our family

all the treasures we possess…

For years we’ve come together

we’ve flown

we’ve taken trains

we’ve driven…

to celebrate not only this Thanksgiving

but years of thanks already given…

So as you sit down for your feast this year

as you’ve done so may times before…

to give thanks for this years blessings

remember all the years you’re thankful for….

Remember all the thank yous

over the years you have amassed…

and how our thank yous of today and tomorrow

are linked to thank yous of the past. 

I guess my friend was right all along

so allow me….If I may

to wish you not only a Happy Thanksgiving

but a Happy Thanks-given day.

A LITTLE YELLOW BOOKMARK

One wonderful trait about being human is the ability to reminisce…

to remember people, places, things and moments

that have happened…that we miss.

Take our house for instance

its floors and walls and ceiling are lined 

with a myriad of memories our children left behind.

Floating in the air…they wait…and we would be remiss

If we didn’t stop and catch a few….

If we didn’t reminisce.

It’s like dipping our hand in the water as we float along a stream…

catching handfuls of our memories

times we laughed and loved and dreamed…

Today as we were cleaning out a drawer

we found a bookmark, that had years ago been misplaced

It was yellow…made of felt

with a little smile for a face.

A little yellow bookmark

picked out of the river flow…

A little yellow bookmark

made by tiny hands so long ago…

A little yellow bookmark…spanning a time continuum so vast

A little yellow bookmark…linking our present to our past…

A little yellow bookmark…

reminding us of a moment in time we miss…

marking that moment forever

every time we reminisce.

A WESTERN CIVILIZATION

Gandhi was a kind, nonviolent man whose wisdom is widespread…

When asked what he thought about Western Civilization

“I think it would be a good idea.” he said.

A civilization that treated all people with tenderness, 

with love and with affection

that accepted everyone in life 

without reservations or exceptions.

A civilization filled with tolerance, 

with mercy and charity…

A civilization where people work together…

where everyone was free…

As Gandhi said it is a good idea…

a civilization that is kindhearted…

and if we are going to create one…

perhaps we should get started.

WAITING FOR THE WIND

When he looked up at the sky, 

and saw the clouds 

he grinned….

then he climbed up to the top of his tree

and waited for the wind

TO THE STARS AND BACK

We thought his rocking horse would only be ridden in the house….

but it was imagination that we lacked….

for he road to castles,

over rivers, 

through the trees…

then to the stars and back.

FIRST AND LAST

They were asked:

what makes your love so easy

so innocent, 

so beautiful…

so vast?”

They answered:

Every day we treat each other as if it’s the first day we ever met,

and 

as if it is our last.

HOW MANY TIMES

He was moving out to be on his own. 

She was filled with happiness…and dread

“Drive safe…don’t forget to call me when you get there…

and remember…I love you…she said.

“Mom!” he said rolling his eyes, then smiling facetiously, 

“I wonder in all the years I’ve lived here…

how many times have you said I love you to me.”

Which immediately started her thinking as her heart was beginning to bleed

“How many times have I said I love you?” she whispered.

“How many times indeed.”

“How many times have I held you in my arms?

How many times have I seen you laugh, seen you cry?

How many times have I read you a story or sang you a lullaby?”

“How many sandwiches have I made for you?

How many cookies or pies or ice cream?

How many lunches have I packed you over the years

How many times have I watched as you dream?”

“How many times have I worried about you?

How many solutions to your problems did I seek?

How many times have I bandaged your knees?

How many tears have I wiped from your cheeks?”

“In all of the times I’ve hugged you hello,”

She said as a tear fell from her eye,

“I never dreamed this day would come

the first time I’d be hugging goodbye.”

“So no matter how many times we say goodbye

each time for me is going to be rough

and no matter how many times I’ve told you I love you

one more time is never enough.”

I WANTED TO WERITE A POEM ABOUT HATE

I wanted to write a poem about hate…

as a way to understand it

but the more I tried…the more this poem…

didn’t go the way I planned it…

I wanted to write a poem about hate…

but the more I searched my brain

I found hate much too complicated…

too difficult to explain…

I wanted to write poem about hate…

instead the best I can do

is write about something I’ve often wondered about

something…I believe to be true….

Something we all need to be reminded….

to remember before it’s too late…

how we were created by love…to love

not created by hate…to hate.

It’s funny:

I wanted to write a poem about hate

because lately…it’s what I’ve been thinking of

but when I sat down to actually write it

all I could think about

was love.

FUTURE MEMOIRES

Immediately upon entering the house 

she squeezes her husband’s hand and sighs

for she can see so many future memories

unfolding before her eyes.