Clouds came into view as they would. How could they not when I was viewing The sky? Clouds, they tend to live up in
The sky, whereas I only dream of being
High up amongst the clouds. I am here
Down to earth. Not walking on clouds.
Walking on roadways or sidewalks, on
Concrete. This is a very concrete place
Wherein, open which I tread. Carefully
Looking up into a sky full of clouds as
Delicate, light and airy as frothy cream
While ye may, may you live fully
Pay attention to details, to all big
And little things that make you
Happy and let you capture the
Flowers and smell roses or if ye
Like lilacs, in all their glorious
Pale purple, as fragrant as if they
Were a lusher deeper shade. Just
One more detail to hold in your
Heart. Gather ye rosebuds awhile.
How are you creative?
How is it that you of all people are
Creative? You are straightforwardly
Stalwart, not at all a creative type
More typically, perhaps a historian
If only you had memory to support
Creativity is for the bohemian in our
Midst, the one prone to wearing big
Floppy hats and excess jewelry, the
One drawling sometimes incessantly
Describe a man who has positively impacted your life.
Life's little positives
A smile, a caress, acts
Of thanks, and grace
The appreciative ones
They show they care
Their care is apparent
And transparent. All
Given freely and from
The heart wherein the
Positive resides and
Flourishes. It thrives
On energy exchanged
And willed, recognized
And shared like a meal
Or the bike only one
Of you owned, but
Both used as needed.
It's yours. It's mine.
Ours together as the
Need arises. We meet
It. Together. Positive.
What was the last thing you did for play or fun?
What is the river hiding?
What secret does the
Water hold deep or in
The shallows under the
Cover of rippling eddies?
Or gentle waves in the
Shallows though we
Know it runs deeper
Hiding its mysteries in
The shallow waters or
In the middle where it
Deepens as the river
Bed drops, its floor a
Concave of complex
Vegetation and mud
The cavitron is singing to
Me, a lullaby of pain and
Longing. Feelings dulled
I hear reverb and clangs
Scrapes loud as cymbals
Give the big finish I hope
For. But no, not done yet
Tip taps like fork to glass
I am numb to all that now
It's a process in which I
Turn my everyday events,
Observations, thoughts
And opinions into poetry.
The diurnal into rhyme
Or at least rhythm and,
In my case, an occasional
Slant rhyme. Ordinary
Things into exceptional
Picturesque images. The
Usual into the unusual.
You know that all things
Are always extraordinary.
Celebrate the days, hours,
And always enjoy the awe
That time and rhyme can
Bring into our daily lives.
What is something others do that sparks your admiration?
Your moves are sleek
Your limbs are slim yet
Taut. Precision is a lot
To demand from one
Already on her toes. It
Is precious that you can
Maintain the ideal. The
Balance from head to
Toe, from outstretched
Arm through a perfect
Torso. You move as a
Definition of graceful
Through time, space
Through a universe of
Beats and rhythms, you
Are music personified.
What could you do less of?
Eating is disorderly for me
Or maybe just a disorder as
It is timely to say and hard
To acknowledge, but I know
True. Too true. I could do less
By being more mindful, also
Hip and of the minute. In this
Moment we look to practice
Mindfulness. In my past time
Not so long ago, I would want
To live in the moment. Truly
An excellent place to find my
Self being. In the here and oh
My, in the now. Now when I
Might find an order in food.
Here where I am attentive, in
Control of the fork, spoon, or
No utensil at all. Mind you I
Should watch what I eat and
Stay conscious of what I do
More of that and less of this.
There will come a moment when
All we remember of this moment
Is the time it took us to cross the
Street or the care we took to dress
Before we met. The time will have
Passed without incident and the
Moment gone by without remark.
Remarkable as it seems to have it,
An event so memorable pass out of
Our memories and go by without
A souvenir. We have no mementos,
Only vague memories of a time so
Important to who we are and who
We will be, to the us we became in
Time, after that moment passed
Tamara, really