Beyond the blue of yesterday

There was a moment where the sun slipped below the horizon, the vibrant red ball seeming as if to sizzle as it hit the surface that was lightly rippled. There was little wind and no words spoken as we just sat and watched the moment, living with the memory of the beauty from seconds ago. Life moves like this some days I find. Bright and filled with life and then when it all settles, a quiet and serene peace begins to grow like a single flower in broken dirt, a small green shoot in a place where nothing was expected or asked for. Simple blessings to appreciate. Time passed slow and fast, all at the same time and though the body and mind never quite met, never synchronized into itself, many memories were carried away, some which will be words in the future I’m sure, some left behind on that beach where the sun disappeared.

We are home from home. Time likes to play its tricks upon me and trying to get caught up, the internet decided that 400 emails must have been a bit too much, crashing my system over and over again like a wave that never ends. I walked away. I took a breath. I returned to some glimmer of hope, the tiny green shoot of peace moved me once more where only cracked and parched thoughts lay, tripping me up as I try to cope….patience, yes, that is what the mind spoke loud and clear. I let it go. I did get some reading done, some catch up left to do but sometimes you just have to let the sun set on the chaos that wants to ensue, to pull you under and leave you floundering…and so I take time here now for a hello to you all my wonderful friends. I’ve missed you, and I’ve missed me. But I am gradually coming back into the normalcy which is my new life and that makes me smile, yes, I am smiling to look around and see my surroundings, my banana tree which is making fat little bananas for the future, to see the pups on the couch for their afternoon siesta, and rain on and off can’t dampen my soul. I embrace it, welcome it actually. Blue days but so very wonderful and it’s good to be home, here by the sea and so different from back there.

Pics from our trip, beautiful sunset and happy beach fish stinking dogs….life, still good.

I’m back….YAY! Happy to see you all again too.

We are water

We ripple under a noon-time sun, a beaten up tired dock upon the water, green-blue tint at the edge of the sea, reflections of our selves watching, waiting for sight of dolphins.

Sand-castle dreams of life as we’ve become and we gaze beyond the horizon where the future lies, past the view of this moment, and we walk to the edge and look down within to see the silver-flecked fish move in time with the waves that move slowly by.

Dark forms meander to nowhere and head to somewhere out of view, a manatee alone lumbering below the surface, a delight for a moment and then it’s gone, slipped away in the endless blue. Nameless faces walk past, speaking in tongue to children in tow and a fisherman casts his net upon the slick silver spears that dart away and he comes up empty-handed time and time again. Do they toy with him? I quietly wonder with a smile, no dinner or bait today as the fish got away.

We are calm here, along the water’s edge where no words need to be spoken and time moves slowly as the sun bakes the sand like a cake from scratch, radiating warmth that feels good on feet that walk gently into the barely there waves and life here moves on and the people come and go, in search of what? I don’t really know. Perhaps a cool swim with the life within, or perhaps to find a lost thought or a memory that has escaped for a while?

The old man sits on a tired bench with his plastic cup of beer and just watches the distance, and I want to ask him what it is he seeks, but I just walk away, letting him be. Who am I to intrude as I walk along myself, down the dock surrounded by the beauty of the water.

Somewhere in my mind I have become the mermaid beached, waiting for the moment when the dolphins return and the sun sets bringing a cooling breeze, I wait.

This is a picture (not mine) of the pier we walked on today, my first sight of a manatee and at the end of the pier, men fished while a heron waited for a snack and a few lonely people sat and drank a beer watching the horizon. Beautiful place. Anna Marie Island was the destination for my mystery trip today. What a beauty, truly.

 

Silver dollar memories

Scent of yesterday fills my mind
sweet anticipation as the sun begins to rise,
silver dollar pancakes on a platter
built by loving hands just for me
and the bacon sits beside,
crisp, the way I like.
Fresh squeezed juice in tiny glasses
not like today’s large equivalent,
for she knew that a full belly went farther
and sugar made one wider
“but eat hearty my girl” she’d say with a smile,
“and then go outside and play awhile”
and I’d fill my plate with the golden cakes
and two pieces of bacon for protein I’d take
and lacing my sneakers I’d run through the door
for outside adventures that lasted till lunch
and then back out again
playing games until dusk.
There weren’t any phrases that are different then now,
except encouragement to be “outside playing” or go read for awhile,
for life has become boxes of sound
and gadgets that busy the mind while it dies
and silver dollar pancakes,
haven’t seen those in years
when her recipe along with her passed
and bacon these days comes sparingly
but now I can say
as I grow older and grey
how I miss those simple days and her loving smile
when we would sit and together read awhile,
and she would tuck me in as I fell gently away
into dreams of adventures of tomorrow
and today.
These days the sun beckons and I walk each morning as it wakes,
breathing in the air, the flowers that bloom
and I may not “play” like back in the day
but each night I lay down exhausted and calm
sleeping soundly and dreaming
perhaps of silver dollar memories
and long ago faces
in familiar home places
and wake with a smile in my heart.

And now for our prompt (optional, as always)! Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates “the sound of home.” Think back to your childhood, and the figures of speech and particular ways of talking that the people around you used, and which you may not hear anymore.