At Home on Mother Earth

 

            The Atlantic Ocean on the shores of Plum Island, MA in December

We stood at the shoreline on a cold early winter day

drinking in the brilliant blues of water and sky

Love was born here on a windy November afternoon

our hearts just beginning to open once again

Looking north, we reimagined the sandy altar

where our vows were taken

It was June

a day much the same in its splendor

The early summer air kissing us with its warmth

The feel of the earth under our bare feet fed our souls

Still, there is nothing like the weight and protection of boots that help carry us over boulders and root-ridden paths

Welch-Dickey looking west

We stop and put our hands in a snow melted stream

amazed at its crystal clear color

Its extravagant cold causes us to sigh in gratefulness

Love grows here on the bare bluffs and falling waters

Arethusa Falls

When we climb in April, we arrive in time for Spring’s rebirth

as we once again mark our own

Seasons change but our zeal for hiking never wanes

Summer flora at the bottom of Artist’s Bluff, Franconia Notch, NH

The mountains await us

Mount Lafayette, Franconia Notch, NH

 

 

Day 22. A poem to honor Earth Day and pay homage to the March for Science. We went to a nearby Arbor Festival and came away with 2 more plants for the butterfly garden and a bougainvillea tree.

Seeking Heaven

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I lie on my mat and ponder the wickedness in this world

Softly chanting mantras

Calling for light in dark corners

  Offering praise for the ones showing us the way

 I meditate

Cleaning the slate of my overworked and overwrought thoughts

I move my body

Stretching muscles

Mending tissues

Restoring cells

Experiencing joy in the work

Content that heaven exists

in the garden planted,

the mountains climbed,

the  paths run

and

the moments magnified by love

Day 20. Namaste

Talismans

 

Following bliss

Preserved and protected against evil forces

Sitting with the sacred

Bowing to the wisdom

Answering intuition

Warding off the wicked with prayerful words

 offered in hushed intensities

Intended and intentional

Persistence exists

 Is exalted and asserted

Seldom softly

 Sometimes silently

Enduring not in the nether

Sustaining simply in the supernal

Day 19. I received the blue evil eye bracelet from a student this morning. She told me that when she saw it, she thought of me. Later-at home- I remembered that my youngest son had given me the second one pictured here. He said that it also reminded him of me and my yoga practice. I am learning that inspiration can come from unexpected places and that activism can take many forms.

Tropical Nocturne

A Violet gloaming on a calm canal channel

A sultry summer evening dances

with the  magenta hues of  fiery reds

and cooling blues

An imperial third dimension

in a dynamic fusion

of expansion and conversion 

Florid in energy and vigorous in wavelength

Akin to gamma rays

  A noble finale

Linking the singular to the universal

Day 18. The prompt was nocturne. I listened to a Chopin piece to set the mood and then uploaded an old photo from my phone. Glad I saved it! Fittingly, purple is a favorite color of mine.

Thoughts in the Air


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Image courtesy of: Pintrest

Is it possible that reminders of an old life can appear unreal?

Can relocation reveal dislocation

not from a physical locale

but from an impression of  love and life?

  There:

Two lives in the same space and time

 One With and One Without

With was a notion

More of a staged play

Another in the leading role

Yet not present for every scene

Without was The Life

An Improvisation

with an ensemble cast

and special guest stars from season to season

A  Strong Woman opera of struggle and strife

whose finale was triumph not tragedy

Living  in a new dimension

Neither With nor Without

Not seeking to reclaim the latter

 It is not a discernible thing that can be held onto any longer

Yet:

There is movement and motion in both spheres

A compelling momentum forward

that doesn’t hold to a limited longitude or latitude

Here:

A garden grows

and love, too

Quiet and enduring

Room for an inner life

Gilded with grace that merges one with the other

Day 17: Bits of dribbled musings on the plane ride from there to here.

Mountain Crawl


Easter rose

We alighted to nature’s sanctuary

Our place of peace and resurrection

Away from the egg hunting crowds and feasted tables of obligation

The route took a detour

The conditions too muddy

A sure sign of Spring in mountainous country

A quick check on the GPS found a return to the ledge ridden twins of Welch-Dickey

We could not afford to be too picky!

Granite slabs in various conditions

Some slick with snow melt made the ascent a chore

 Forcing at times a climb on all fours

Still others were bone dry

 Standing straight in momentum

Surely we could fly!

Then what looked to be easy was deceptively so

As we found ourselves down on our backsides in the snow

Trails puddled and muddy

Leaf covered and ruddy

Narrow passages filled with slippery slush

Our day grow longer than we would have planned

 Yet it was worth it, as it ended with beers in our hands

Day 17. I should be asleep. The hike was exhausting but absolutely fantastic! Our original hike to Morgan-Percival had to be cancelled due to muddy conditions. We returned to another spot which was hard the first time due to rainy conditions. For some reason we thought it we be easier this time around. Not so much! My last full day here in New  England with my sons. Both boys were along for the trek today with blessed Izzy with us as well. My oldest gets the Mountain Goat award!

Unburdened

The final resting place for the uncommon

Though only in body

Dust and tinges of bone remain

beneath the knobby spring terrain

Markers bearing just a snippet of an earthbound vitality

Entry and Exit

Beloved wife

Former headmaster

Dedicated alum

Distinctive author

Her verse exposed this land’s second original sin

Time-worn graves

mossy and copper stained virescent words, faded

An existence forgotten

These spirits rattle and hum

The sound carried in the first season’s whipping winds

I settle in to listen

Day 15.  A walk and a picnic in a campus cemetery. Spring is just beginning to speak.

Hometown Run

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Photo courtesy of: Trip Advisor (Ward Hill Reservation)

The brisk  mid morning air rushed at my bare arms and legs

The nip a welcome amazement

A bit of bliss

I smile as if kissed

My heart in full surge

Feeling the urge

An unquenched desire to move through the breeze

The hills, rises, and turns feeling familiar once again

The tower bell tolled ten

Its chime a reminder of a lost moment

and the comforting rhythm to our days

 I cross at the light

forgetting the long span of street that lay ahead

Houses and yards void of winter’s white

Daffodils and crocuses rounding out the renewing green of lawns and red  brick pathways

The downhill speeds my pace-

I am used to its more arduous climb, not its effortless decent

I turn on the road where the cemetery lies in the grove

My legs just starting to slightly suffer

I approach a rare flat surface

Relief briefly in store

A left turn into town

Churches white-steepled, granite stoned and russet brick

One last incline then the finish

The high road to where the boys now call home

Day 14: Already Running, Hanging and Cooking with family and friends.

Between Two Worlds

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                                            Image courtesy of: AllPosters.com

 

She inquires

Are you coming back or just visiting?

I ask myself

Have I ever left?

My spirit resides in cold, granite rocks and crisp, gripping air

I stood outside at the airport

Basking in the north wind

Rejoicing in the sky that bore more clouds than sun

The southern nights have been restless in anticipation

Sleep elusive

I toss and turn in the stifling and stuffy night air

Rains of  sweat beneath my forehead and between my breasts

My body longing for the chill of a drafty house

and the warm pile of a fluffy comforter

The tip of my nose cool to the touch

Nostalgia keeps me coming back, I know

But the tug and pull of my  new life

reminds me of a joy that I am just beginning to sow

Day 13.  I am back in New England for a few days to visit the boys and my friends. My legs need some hills and a mountain to climb. I have been greeted with “Welcome Home!” already. Although in truth, I now have two places that bear the same name.

 

Withering Vines

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                                            Image courtesy of: Pintrest

A Reflection

A Pleasing Woman

A Magnificent Mind

A Soft Spirit

Working hard at denial

and unconscious obfuscation

Practicing the art of avoidance

Folding within herself

 A verdant vessel for a vacuous seed

  Hoping for a change through sweet offerings

While gritting your teeth and conjuring a smile

You’re building a gilded cage

 Your tongue bleeding with the words you wish to say

Your feet tiptoeing

When they  want to stomp in frustration and irritation

Is it easier to acquiesce?

What is it that you fear?

  In time your ebullience may ebb

Your smile may turn into a sneer

And the hard work of keeping it together may exhaust you

And then your unraveling will begin

 

Day 11. The daily prompt was Unraveling. I am far removed from my former life on so many levels. But today’s prompt had me thinking of women who sacrifice so much of themselves, buying into the fairy tale, afraid of being alone and staying too long because of fear of looking like a failure or fear of poverty or something much worse. The chance to regain yourself and build a better life is out there and worth the fight.