March Skies…

Some random shots I took the other day. I went for a drive along the lake and was compelled to stop and take a few pics.   It’s such typical spring weather for March here (Upstate NY), where you can have four seasons in a day…

 

I also added these to my “Same Sky… Different Day” photo album on my Facebook page… where I have many random sky photos “because I have a hard time not looking up… ”

~ smj

Almost Home

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
naturally sure and steady
without the constant click, click, click
of a cane that beats in time to my pace
accompanying every other annoying step
making me feel so old and less than
the woman, mother, person I once was.

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
without pain, with just my dog
and sometimes the moon following along
as we travel to the churchyard and back,
around the block, or to and through
our favorite woods, where the creek
is undoubtedly running high today.

The woods…
I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
through their trees, with quiet sounds
that drown out the chaos, while earthy aromas
rise up from dirt paths that give way
to my footsteps, with or without leaves
shuffling or crunching along with us
as we move through our seasons.

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to do
so many things I once loved,
but never really knew how much.
Like, how it felt to just be
the me that I once was – playful, strong, so full
of confidence and myself.  Maybe too full
yet still, underrated.

I’ve almost forgotten, almost.
And, what about you?
What do you see when you look
at me?  I know you miss me too, but
have you also almost forgotten? Do you remember
me at all? Can you even faintly feel the spring breeze
that smells like the woods, and calls to me by name?
It’s whispering to us, howling to us,
“don’t give up, you’re almost home”.

~ smj

“In every frame upon our wall lies a face that’s seen it all
Through up’s and down’s and then more down’s
We helped each other off of the ground
No one knows what we’ve been through
Making it, ain’t making it without you

Maybe I’m not but you’re all I got left to believe in
Don’t give up on me, I’m about to come alive
And I know that it’s been hard and it’s been a long time coming
Don’t give up on me, I’m about to come alive”

I’m About to Come Alive, by Train

Tuesdays Past and Present….

(Written last Tuesday, for a “writing exercise”… where we were to think about where, exactly, we were one year ago… difference, similarities… just write, without thinking, no stopping til done.  This is what I came up with: )

On a Tuesday morning in March, one year ago from today, I would have been working.  Instead of sitting in this poetry class, writing this, I would have been sitting at my desk in my office.  The same office where I still work, just not on Tuesday mornings.    Instead of gathering my homework, and book of poems by Cavafy, as I did this morning, I would rather have been gathering up whatever work I had brought home  and rushing off to the office.  I would have driven the same expressway, and parked in the same parking lot as I did this morning.  However, once parked, I would have began walking in a different direction and going towards the office where I work, rather than making my way to the nearby Campus where I walked to today.

I still would have, most likely, been looking up.  Noticing the sky, blue or gray.  I can’t recall today what exact color it was last year, but,

Spring Inquisition

Who told poor Robin that Spring had sprung?
What Judas could have sent her to this place
where waters are sure to freeze again? And,
when she learns there are no worms, no wonder
why her face will show as red as her breast.

~ smj

This song/vid just makes me laugh…
LOL
see?

(dedicated to Bob.  ;)

The Thaw

The creek runs high today.
Fast, furious, and fueled by yesterday
as it cast off its shroud of white
which melted into waves
of icy, bitter-sweet waters
carrying once buried transgressions
that waited beside crocuses
for their chance to bloom
and transform into something
better.

The creek runs high today.
Racing towards tomorrow’s promise
of warm waters that glide easily
around smooth stepping stones
where moss can grow
and life can settle
into a peaceful rhythm
that has ebbed from winter
and flows in time to the heart
of summer.

The creek runs high today.
Faster than my thoughts.
Further than my dreams
that lay dormant
frozen still
waiting for the thaw.

~ smj

(this poem was an expansion, continuation, and definite after-thought to the haiku I posted called, “snow fall“. )

Frozen Love, by Buckingham Nicks