The Mind that Cannot See

There is a mind that cannot see
Once the eyes are closed.
Visualization cannot be
If pictures are never composed.

Where the world remains black as ink
The darkness can stifle thoughts;
Not only is it hard to think,
But feelings get tied up in knots.

I speak from experience –
I have this kind of brain.
It blocks my creative sense
Held hostage by lock and chain.

I believe in a door that when opened
Will set free the ability
To see whatever is spoken,
If only temporarily.

By writing and painting and playing,
Working puzzles, singing songs and more,
My brain shall begin displaying
Imagination’s delights galore.

(I believe it can be done!
This is the purpose of all my fun.)

I will knock on that door daily
Just as the Good Lord said,
“Knock and it shall be opened,”
Not with hand, but with heart instead.

And if in the end I fail,
I will still be glad I tried.
My spirit will still prevail
Because the joy is in the ride.

What does it take to paint?

What does it take to get out my paints?
It takes empty hours with no constraints,
Quiet surroundings and clean, neat spaces,
Room to explore my artistic graces,
No distractions of any kind,
And most of all, a willing mind –
Willing to try and fail,
To be patient with small detail,
Accepting whatever the outcome,
Even if it’s humdrum;
Such perfect circumstances are rare,
Which means I need to begin with prayer.

Artistic Chaos

The Wait

Restless activity,
low productivity;
Hard to sleep,
trying to keep
Peace of mind
while feeling inclined
To fear the worst,
like your heart will burst;
Because of the weight
of the long, lonely Wait.

One waits for a job offer
As unemployment empties the coffer.
One waits for college acceptance,
Hoping their chosen path will commence.
One waits for blood-work findings
As their pain keeps on grinding.
One waits for biopsy results;
Braving the unknown like an adult.

All feel fragile and nervous,
Needing our sympathy, support and service.
Having a friend by their side
Can turn the tide
Of fear, anxiety and depression,
Giving their fears and hopes expression,
Assured that we care
Because their burden we share
Through the long, lonely Wait.

Speaking of waiting, I haven’t been able to create a poem every day lately, and it feels like too long a time between poems!

Growing Younger

My mind isn’t what it used to be.
Or, rather, it is becoming what it used to be
fifty years ago!
Maybe it’s not so bad being young again…
To have a young mind
is to live in the moment
to be thrilled by the simple things and
to throw off the cares of the world
because they are boring and complicated
I am grateful for
every blessing
every comfort and
every protection
While I grow younger.

I Want to Fly

The last time I saw the stars in the sky
Was 20 years ago (big sigh!)
Stars were falling every few seconds
A heavenly meteor shower beckoned
          I want to fly!
The last time I looked out over the great Columbia River
Was 25 years ago (makes me shiver)
Every time I see that expanse
I feel the pull to take a chance
          I want to fly!
The last time I flew a kite
Was 40 years ago (that’s right)
Such graceful, delightful dips and turns…
By now you’ve pretty much learned
          I want to fly!
The last time I was swung ’round hand-to-hand
Was 50 years ago (it was grand!)
Weightless, free
Soaring, wheeee!
          I want to fly!
A swing is the closest I’ve ever been
To actually flying through the air (makes me grin)
It’s always tempting to just let go and sail
But Ouch!! The landing – Oh!! The wail…
          I want to fly!
          But I’ll not try

This poem reminds me of a time when a swing really did make me fly.
I was four or five years old, swinging on the kind of swing that has a 
handle for hands which extends also down to the feet.  It's like a pump
I guess, and as the handle is pushed back and forth by feet and hands,
it propels the swing.  I was inexperienced and didn't know that one can
go too far up, to the point where the handlebar pushes down past the
dinosaur head decoration. Well, that's exactly what I did, not knowing
the meaning of the word limits, and I went flying off that swing and
landed face first in the sand pit across from the swing set.  I was 
astonished, wondering what just happened! I learned to respect the 
limitations of swings, haha.

My Complaint

My word department is a mess
It needs to be re-wired.
The gal who ran it all my life
Has recently retired.
In her place is a lazy bum
Who won't do what's required.

Keeping track of language
I admit, can be a chore.
That's why there was a system
Of files in boxes and drawers.
But now when a word is used and sent back
She just tosses it onto the floor
While she watches her favorite shows
With her feet propped up on the door.

In her defense she says
She's created a better way;
All that filing and alphabetizing
Was wasting her very good day.
So when I send the signal
To find a particular say,
She just dips her hand in the sea of tossed words
That surrounds her comfortable quay.
Grabbing the first one she feels,
It gets hurled through the matter gray,
Comes rolling off my tongue in a flash,
But it's not the right word 
What?! - Hey!!

At Least

At least have the bed made
I do not ask a lot
Just show me in this little way
That you’ve given me some thought

At least have the bread made
As often as you are able
It means so much to me
Home made bread on the table

At least have dinner made
And then you can feel free
To do the things you want to do
While I’m away from thee

Oh, and please have dessert too
I love that final sweet
I feel just like a king
When you serve a special treat

You may wonder Who
Is asking this of me
It’s not my spouse – Oh no!
He treats me like a queen

It’s me who asks myself
Yes, my funny little quirk
I pretend they’re his requests
Cuz it helps me do my work

What’s Next For Me?

A goal, a dream, a desire
Do these belong to me?
Currently I am striving
To patiently wait for thee

I live to serve you Darlin’
But the things you really need
Are things I cannot give you
So I wish you all God-speed

While you give it all you’ve got
To brave the risky way
I am here to cheer you on
And listen to all you say

You have a dream and a desire
You seek like-minded men
What exactly am I seeking?
Have I lost my way again?

Is there a goal of my own?
In which direction am I reaching?
My little daily tasks cannot
Live up to this high teaching

To entertain myself
I consider your lofty thoughts…
I remember an old dream
In which I had my Have-Nots

What I Have-Not is a voice that sings
As clear as a church-bell chime,
An imagination that makes music,
A feel for rhythm, an ear for time

My dream is so much bigger
And higher than I can be
That I lose all my desire,
Yet Desire is the Key

1. I desired my Creator
And found his love so free;
2. I desired you, my darlin’
Now you’re devoted to me;
3. I desired to have children
And was blessed with three;

Now I see the pattern,
Now I understand
If I have it All within me
Then it doesn’t seem so grand

What I truly want and wish for
Is out of my control
I have part of the equation
But need God to make it whole

With this lesson understood
I shall rethink my position
If my dream is making music
Pray, God make me a musician

And while I wait expectantly
For this ‘miracle’ to happen
I can work on rhyme and rhythm
I can get my fingers snappin’

I can do my part to listen

To the voice of my own soul
It will be given from above
As I learn to let it flow