creativity · nature · photography · poetry

Harmonic Convergence

Be as trees, reaching
canopy of harmony,
gratitude implied.

(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge:  gratitude / harmony.  Photo from personal collection.)

blogging · creativity · ME/ CFS · poetry · writing

Gratitude for dVerse

This current disconnect leaves me toe-tapping restless;
see, disease has commandeered my operating system,
and it’d be safe to say, if my body was an elevator
then it never really reaches any floor, and the state
of my alignment leaves me stumbling and ungrounded.
So staying put and writing is about the best I can do –
dVerse that makes me awfully appreciative of you!

(dVerse is celebrating 7 years with a call for a septet – a poem of 7 lines, or stanzas of 7 lines. Check them out!)

disability · health · Love · poetry · relationships · spirituality

Angels Watch Over Me

A letter came today  –
an old-fashioned,
hand addressed,
post delivered,
greeting.

It’s the second
in two weeks –
simple messages
of encouragement,
heartfelt.

It’s from the same
angel that everyday
texts me a message –
a positive missive,
uplifting.

A letter came today,
and I felt ten years old,
special, remembered –
humbled by a simple act,
blessed.

A friend came by today,
had a rare day off –
thought of me –
offered her services,
selflessly.

Her confidence buoying,
we ventured out – pedi’s
then lunch – her quiet
offer of an elbow,
reassuring.

We talked about life –
grandchildren, husbands,
the state of the world,
and I felt normal,
alive.

A friend came by today –
and I was a kid again,
arm-in-arm with her bestie,
spontaneous and free,
cherished.

adversity · disability · health · life · poetry · recovery

A Friend, Indeed

Friend, you guide
my brain-fogged,
somnambulist limbs –
like a mindless automaton;
I follow, barely registering
movement – grateful for
deliverance into the
fullness of day.

Once, I abhorred
your consistency,
your stifling repetition,
found your dependency
mind-numbing, soulless –
suffocated in your lack
of notoriety – called you
unremarkable.

Undaunted, you persist,
morally unbiased, life-
affirming, ignoring
lethargy’s blood-
sucking hold, lifting
me, comforting,
habitually reliable,
blessed routine.

disability · dreams · health · Humour · poetry · relationships

Grateful Pause (Paws)

img2

I’ve been a grumpy lion,
lashing out in pain –
punctured shell smarting
by an objectionable barb.

I am a prideful feline,
with a formidable roar –
an offensive defense,
intended to intimidate.

Even so, you ventured near
and in a single act of good,
disarmed my furious outrage,
calmed this bellowing beast.

Like a mouse, you quietly,
with understated grace,
gestured with such kindness
I withdrew all complaint.

You restored my faith in beauty,
revived a nostalgic sense of bliss,
offered possibilities, sweet and
restorative;  soothed my soul.

And not, I have noted, without
self-sacrifice on your part;
I am not so egocentric
to have missed the cross you bear.

Your gentle demeanour prevailing
over my abhorrent rant,
is a worth a million thank you’s
to a wounded-heart cat, like me.

health

Blessings

My mother’s feet scream with the agony
of her miserable condition,
underlying the disease that eats at her.
My feet, uncallused paddles,
slightly bent and fallen,
carry on with forgiving kindness.

My husband’s knees are red-hot pokers
shooting knife-sharp volts
with every rickety step he takes.
Mine like knots in the spindly
trunks that bear them
graciously allot me flexibility.

My father’s back grew weak with time
faltering in the end – unreliable –
as if he’d borne the weight of the world.
My back, not without its moaning,
carries me proudly, erect –
like the spring sapling, winter endured.

My uncle’s heart beats erratically,
ceasing despite its mechanical support;
his life a testimony to modern science.
My heart flutters with expectancy,
aches with disappointment,
and soars with each new birdsong.

My sister’s tension rises,
the stiffness in her neck suffocating,
headaches blinding her vision.
My neck, slung now like a rooster,
puffs around my face like an old friend,
allowing me the comfort of perspective.

My brother’s mind has seized,
lost somewhere between today
and yesteryear – never certain of either.
Mine, a constant churning cog,
gathers information, spews ideas
and bends in the face of creativity.

My eyes have seen the suffering of others;
my hands throbbed with a desire to help;
yet each bears their cross stoically,
and so I watch with compassion and gratitude
for a life I might have lived,
had my own vessel not been so blessed.

 

 

 

 

Uncategorized

Day 205 “The Best of Times”

My dreams drag me back into my past; into lives and loves long forgotten, and my mind follows, driven by nostalgia, full of hope. Last night, it was my former husband, inviting me back to the marital home, needing my help, and I naively following, thinking all is forgiven; life moves on. We don’t make it past the local variety store, and a few old neighbours before I realize that I am mistaken. There is no innocent intent here, only an attempt to use me once again, and the rage surfaces propelling me out of the dream into the light of a new day.

Why do we always associate “the best of times” with the past? Is it easier to look back and gloss over the unpleasantness, focusing only on the good? Why can’t we then do that in the present?

I cannot remember a time when there was not some sort of stress in my life, and yet, undeniably, always an accompanying joy. Today is no different.

Struggling to come to terms with a chronic illness and the life changes that brings, on the back of a year of health hell for my husband, there is stress and times of frustration, however; our love for each other has grown proportionately, with a new depth of caring and compassion. There isn’t a day that goes by that I am not grateful for this man in my life, so that even in the darkest moments I know that I am blessed.

These are the best times, if I am truly honest. These very days in which we wish things were different: wistfully dreaming of another time, a brighter future. There are no better times than right now.

So today, as the sun shines through the window and blows off the nasty remnants of my dream, I sit at the edge of the bed and ponder the perfection of now (or the “perfect imperfection”, as the popular song says) and make a commitment to myself to embrace the day, whatever it brings.