a full plate

wringing out the dishcloth

with dishes still in the sink

is like the days of being a mother 

teaching you that the work is 

never all done

time putting us all through the wringer 

wishing for more time but less wringing 

hoping for a little stretch of peace

but that's not what life is all about

so the blows just keep coming 

day after day, the dishes keep coming

and going but showing that 

there is always a little more one can do

to make a difference 

to feed a soul 

joy (a blackout poem)

Seek and find joy,

The great blessing relating to

Something like sun-split clouds

Lifted over the changed world 

Flying together—

Take and see—

Caught up in the exhilaration, 

Rejoiced delight. 

This heart! 

I speak about something—

Laughter—

Wings. 

memories

My collection is growing with time 

And space and friends and opportunity. 

My collection has colors innumerable— 

Indescribable and incredible. 

My heart is filling up so full that

All it takes some days is one more 

Drop of joy, and my cup overfloweth

In the form of tears or laughter—

Or both. 

Some days, I trick myself into thinking 

I have not been given enough chances, and 

Then, I remember and I start counting, and 

There just is no room in one person to hold 

All the good and wonderful and happy 

That has been given to me. 

My friends, my family 

And all this love that I hold and see

Everywhere I look, surrounding me. 

halfway

Isn't there a little something special about knowing 

You are halfway there? 

Halfway where, you ask?  

Halfway to finishing

Halfway to accomplishing something

Halfway to doing something different

Halfway to the goal 

Halfway to knowing something—anything 

Who knows what the something is

Other than the satisfaction of being all done? 

Or is there something more? 

Do you ever feel a little wistful? 

Sometimes a little wishful 

That maybe time could slow down just a tad

To grasp the second half after halfway a little longer

To savor it and save the feeling for on a rainy day?

And smile

Because you remember how it felt to be halfway 

And there is just something special about 

Being there in the middle of doing 

Creating, writing, teaching, 

Thinking, hoping, dreaming, singing 

Being in the middle of making something 

Out of what used to be nothing 

Waiting for you, and all that you bring, to show up. 

to the bone

raggedy and worn

tired and wishing, war-torn 

pushing on toward light