Dream-scape

A walk into my dreams, 

holding my dream-self 

                        

    by the hand, 

we enter a land 

peopled by doves and dragons 

happy rainbows over 

               

              blackened clouds

to divine the bizarre and beautiful 

frightening mountains and flowered meadows

to wake in the morning 

to rumpled covers, 

a tearstained face or a crooked smile. 

Dreams fray like sunrise clouds

my dream-self fades into my pillow

and I am changed.

“I wake to sleep and take my waking slow.”

~ Theodore Roethke, Words for the Wind: The Collected Verse

(1908 ~ 1963)

The Race

Hurry into the morning as 

if it would escape. The victim 

of an everyday chase that ends 

when afternoon comes. Chase 

slows as sun lowers itself t’ward 

the horizon and the shadow of 

the racer crosses the finish line

Hurry into the night, out of breath and wanting sleep to come quickly so the race can begin again in the morning. And what use is 

the hurry, 

  the chase, 

                 the race 

when sun and moon don’t pay attention 

to our funny little races through our lives.

“We have to slow the rhythm of our lives so that 

the best of who we are can emerge.”

~ Lysa TerKeurst, author

Winter Imagining

Come with me as I walk 

in the midnight of winter 

with snow falling gently 

all around, edging head 

and shoulders in flakes 

of crystal. Beware the 

ice-y flows beneath the 

soft layer of new snow. 

Stand beneath a streetlight 

and watch as the drift and 

sway of dancing snow 

partners with cold wind in 

this delicate dance. When 

noses are red and cheeks 

pink aglow we turn our walk 

into the warmth of home.

“Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must

 protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths.”

~ George R.R. Martin, ~ Game Of Thrones 

"Tides" ~ CHANGE Theme for February 2026

Come with me…….

Hurry into the……

A walk into……

Nicely done!

Getting on with…….

Easing my heart……..

“February is the uncertain month, neither black nor white 

but  all shades between by turns, nothing is sure.”

~ Gladys Hasty Carroll, novelist

(1904 ~ 1999)

Not Just Papers

 

Sorting thoughts

organizing them into groups with titles, 

selecting papers that stay 

those that go, 

personal history: 

tempting to toss a grade school report card, 

the last pay stub from previous employers, 

fridge magnets that hold special meaning

souvenirs from my travels, 

photos of nieces that are grown, 

birthday cards, 

and the gigantic stack of carefully torn squared off scrap paper, 

family history, 

and of course important folders for

tax information

  mortgage documents 

    insurance papers

Unexpected finds of 

   computer cords, and cords, and cords

   obsolete computer connecters

   red paper clips

So much like going through 

photos in boxes and bags 

holding them up to the light 

remembering the road of life .

“Nothing is a waste that makes a memory.”

~  Ned Rorem, composer

Drift

 

Penning poetic words tonight sounded easy but when they kept spilling through my fingers to drift away, I was left to mutter ~       ‘writing is hard’!

“One day I will find the right words, and they will all be simple.”

~ Jack Kerouac,  The Dharma Bums

Just a Curiosity

I needed a place to put my coins ~ change saved for 

a gift down the road

I keep them all wrapped 

snugly but they are too heavy 

for a plastic bag! 

I emptied a plastic container that had held four cranberry scones ~ they were good ~

toasted with butter and cream cheese. The heavy weight of the coins in this empty container 

that had held just a treat for me struck me 

with the weight of our food purchases.

Just a curiosity while keeping these coins safe.

“The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.”

~ Henry David Thoreau

Too Early

My eyelids droop ~

little strength to stay 

open even though 

I am not ready to

turn lights out. I’m 

not even close to 

laying my head on the 

soft pillow that 

whispers my name.

“Blessed are the sleepy ones: for they shall soon drop off.”

~ Friedrich Nietzsche