ONE MOM WE SHOULDN'T FORGET

She gives us life…she loves us…despite our numerous mistakes…

It’s how we learn about love…by watching every move she makes.

She is beautiful in our eyes, she is patient, giving…kind

and from the moment of our births…our lives are intertwined.

Her love is immediate and eternal we perceive it everywhere  

It’s rooted in our bones, our hearts…we can feel it in the air.

Her greatest joy is seeing ours…one smile is all it takes

and she is many times defined…by the sacrifices that she makes.

She is irreplaceable…there is something so beautiful…

so wonderful about her

and along the way we realize we cannot live without her.

We may grow up up and go away…but there will come a day when

we find our way back to her and fall in love again.

It is then we realize everything she’s done…

we’re grateful, appreciative and thus

we want to take great care with her…

the way she cares for us. 

Yes, she is vitally important to us…

from the moment of our birth…

she gives us life, 

she helps us breathe…

she is our mother…

Earth.

JUST LIKE MOM

With this poem I begin to celebrate mothers…

their wonder, their compassion…their mystique… 

I’m not waiting until Sunday however…

I’ll be celebrating every day this week:

As the day to celebrate moms approaches wouldn’t it be great to find a way

to act toward one another as if every day was Mother’s day.

We wouldn’t have to change a lot…wouldn’t have to make too much of a fuss

if we treated the entire world the way our mother’s treated us.

Just like Mom…

we’d share a smile with everyone and we would have the knack

of discovering the perfect way…to make them smile back.

Just like Mom…

we would comment on their beauty…their face, their eyes, their hair

and we would try to make them feel special any time and anywhere.

Just like Mom…

we would applaud the little things they do…by their smallest gestures we’d be enthralled.

We would encourage their success but help them up if they should fall.

Just like Mom…

we would treat the world with love and kindness, 

help to heal other’s pains and aches

We would be accepting, 

we’d be gentle 

and we’d forgive them their mistakes.

Just like Mom… 

We would find more time to play, we’d find more time to share.

We would show others by our actions they are important…that we care.

Wouldn’t this world be a better place…more harmonious and calm…

If we treated every creature, 

everybody

just like Mom?

TEARS

I saw a tear escape her eye…

when she whispered out his name

and I remember thinking why…

and wondering what tragedy she overcame.

She suffered a loss I did not know…

a loss she couldn’t disguise

It happened a long time ago…

I could see it in her eyes.

I imagine a tear is how our heart speaks 

when we can’t find words to explain

when a memory has made us weak…

when we’re overcome with pain.

I wonder when we hold back our tears…

suppress even one teardrop

If it’s because we have a hidden fear…

once they start…our tears won’t stop.

That once the dam is broken…

and our tears start falling down

a terror goes unspoken…

that in our own tears…we will drown.

For suffering sometimes fall like rain…

a word, a smell, a thought can bring it on

and we’re reminded by our pain 

how grief is not a sprint but a marathon.

Perhaps that’s why we have an ocean of tears…

for in any dark days we have ahead

when a memory stirs and grief appears

we’ll have unending tears to shed.

I wonder…how many of us harbor a fear

that at the end of any minute…any day

a relentless stream of our own tears

are but one memory away?

At the time I offered her a smile…

to give her strength for a sadness I’ve never known

knowing all the while

some griefs we’re meant to bear alone.

THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE

They found the owl…this morning…”Look!” the young boy said.

On the street in front of their house…a little owl was dead.

“What are we going to do?” the boy asked as he got down on one knee.

“We’re going to take a walk”, Dad said, “to the weeping willow tree.”

He reached down and picked up the owl…as gently as could be

then they walked down to the lake and sat under the willow tree.

“It’s time you learned this tree’s secret.” Dad whispered. “Shhhh…don’t make a peep

It is only in the silence one can hear the willow weep.”

The son’s face beamed when he finally heard it and he asked his father…”Why?

Why is this tree so sad…what makes the willow cry?”

When we feel pain or sorrow, when we’re hurt or when someone we know dies….”

“These are some of the reason”, Dad said, “some of the reasons why we cry.

"But when a rock or tree or a little owl dies…who is there to moan?”

“Who is there to weep when parts of nature die alone?"

“That is where the willow comes in…with this job she has been blessed.”

“While we weep for those we know and love…she weeps for all the rest.”

“When a tree falls in the forest, when a baby owlet dies,

when a rivers dries up or a star stops shining…this is when the willow cries.”

So the little boy and his dad picked up the owl…as gently as can be

and buried her in silence…under the shade of that willow tree.

“She will be well protected here.” Dad said. “our promise to nature has been kept.”

and in the silence of that moment…

they joined with the willow 

while she wept.

ONE MAN'S HOME...

His name was Howard Solomon and without a lot of circumstance or pomp

he bought some land near Sarasota and built himself a castle…in a swamp.

Without much schooling and with no plans…it’s hard to understand

how he made something so beautiful with just his imagination and his hands.

But he did and it’s quite magnificent…it’s both whimsical and fun

as the luster of its silver siding shimmers in the sun.

And it was a wonderful place to visit, to walk its halls, to see it shine

but this was his dream…his castle…built with his imagination…not mine.

Which made me glad to return to my home…where my memories are sown.

Glad that, although a little smaller and less shiny, I have a castle of my own.

And I couldn’t help but smile once we turned into our driveway knowing we were back

once we opened our door..once we entered…and I hung my hat upon the rack…

Because it reminded me of something I already knew long before this adventure got it’s start:

Home is not only where you hang your hat…it’s where you hang your heart

NOT AGAIN!

There’s been another mass shooting today…

once again we express our sorrow

wondering when this insanity will end

wondering if we’ll survive tomorrow.

We hear the families sobbing

as they live through their deepest fears.

We see the pain etched on their faces

as it leaves behind a trail of tears.

We see families holding their chests

as they try to stop themselves from shaking

knowing by now it’s much too late

to stop their hearts from breaking. 

We see them holding on to one another

once the depth of their tragedy is known.

We see them holding on to one another

because it’s impossible to stand alone.

There’s been another mass shooting today…

once again we express our sorrow

wondering when this insanity will end

wondering if we’ll survive tomorrow….

THE FAIRY CIRCLE

“What is that Mommy?” the young girl asked pointing and stopping to stare…

“That’s a Fairy Circle.” Mom whispered. “The fairies live under there.”

“It occurs when a shooting star streaks in front of the the moon after an evening storm.

It’s the only time this doorway between our two worlds is formed.”

“Most of the time fairies live underground…

but when the circle is created they seize their chance.

to enter into our world and around this circle…they dance.”

“Legend has it fairies love to dance…love to feel the beat

and when they tire from all that dancing they use the mushrooms as their seats.”

“If you’re lucky enough to see them dance,” mom continued…

then you will be forever blessed

with a life of good health and joy…of contentment and happiness.”

“Do you think we can see the fairies dance?” the young girl asked as she touched a mushroom stem.

“I’m not sure,” mom smiled…”for that is entirely up to them.”

“We’ll come back tonight while the moon is still full but let me warn you before we begin

we can’t see the fairies dancing…unless they invite us in.”

That night they walked together hand in hand 

behind a tree they hid….

and around the circle of mushrooms… 

that’s just what the fairies did?