Posted in poetry, tagged acceptance, appreciation, humanity, inspiration, openness, perspective, positive attitudes, unity on October 27, 2024| Leave a Comment »
”Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.” Soren Kierkegaard
UNSPOKEN
Inside the human world
We are not the same age.
We are not the same color.
We walk together,
our honesty transparent,
our feet and hearts bare,
our lives open to one another.
My life and yours, shared.
The small rocks of real life
between our toes,
the small grains of sand,
the sun, the rain,
the everyday, the sublime.
We are a part of it all.
until we choose to be less than whole.
Posted in poetry, tagged appreciation, experience, gratitude, inspiration, music, perspective on October 20, 2024| 1 Comment »
“Where words fail, music speaks.” — Hans Christian Andersen
White Tuba
As I pass through afternoon traffic
I see a boy carrying a milky white tuba.
It complements his rich, dark skin.
I wonder about his music,
if the cadence of his steps embraces the street’s
noise or syncopates internal rhythms.
Does he recreate melodies
from a nineteen forties band or
is a new composition forming in his mind?
The light changes from red to green.
I move on to my ordinary destination
and wish my radio would blast some jazz.
Posted in poetry, tagged appreciation, choice, inspiration, memories, perspective, positive attitudes on October 12, 2024| 2 Comments »
“We don’t remember days; we remember moments.” (Cesare Pavese)
LAST VISIT TO THE HOUSE I CALLED HOME
Dust encases the old homestead.
Encyclopedias from 1963,
boxes of unused pencils,
skeins of yarn with faded fifty-cent
mark-down stickers,
a broken clock.
Most of the saved items are gone,
Dumpster and shredder items wait.
Bags of canceled checks
on Mom’s closed account.
She died years ago.
Dad’s will to maintain dissolved, too.
In the back yard his loss leaked
into the naked, open space
leaving it flat, withered.
Before the property grew sullen,
I planted seeds for annuals that sprouted into
a tiny-stemmed miniature garden.
They dwarfed next to tomato vines
Dad tied to hand-cut posts.
Sunlight coaxed
white blossoms into green and then red fruit.
Inside the house Mom made soups that
took all day to blend the chicken
with onions, carrots, celery
into a fragrance that filled every nook.
I try to recall an ancient, lingering scent
but it was taken for granted
too long ago. I find my wedding gown
in an eaves closet,
zipped in plastic.
I changed my name and moved on.
The yellowed department-store receipt
remains attached to the wire hanger.
I wipe off the grime and carry what-was-me
into what-is-me now.
The door locks for the last time.
The sun leaves a sliver of itself
on a pink horizon,
a visible color beyond reach,
like memories, both dark and light,
locked inside things left behind.
Posted in poetry, tagged acceptance, appreciation, art, books, childhoo innocence, choice, determination, experience, inspiration, memories, perspective, poetry, singing, travel, writing on October 5, 2024| Leave a Comment »
Let your hopes, not your hurts, shape your future. (Robert H. Schuller)
CUT—
The little girl stands
on her imaginary stage
made of ordinary maroon carpet
on an everyday Thursday afternoon.
A popular song drifts
into the living room
from the kitchen where Mommy cooks,
and scrubs the floor.
She complains about how quickly
three kids get it dirty again.
The girl listens to the music and
mimics the trills, the rises and falls,
and emotions in the melody,
her gentle vibrato promising a
clear soprano voice one day.
She would have added gestures
for her make-believe audience,
but Mommy appears at the doorway
wielding her wooden spoon.
So-who-do-you-think-you-are?
Mommy turns away without striking.
Yet, the girl hears the warning
and retreats into the dark, silent spaces
between the lace curtains and window.
The song will not disappear.
She hears it inside her head
and saves the sound
for a safer moment
when she will lead her
children to follow dreams,
write, discover subtleties,
laugh, cry, or simply be.
terrypetersen 