Pink Dress

Pink ribbons bobbing in the hair

On the tips of a ponytail

Pink Dress racing down the street

Propelled by pink socks in pink shoes

 

All in pink she runs and skips

Happy and free without a care

Pink Dress stained with messy childhood joys

Like mud and dirt and cold popsicles too

 

Pretty in pink and at one with God

Laughing, singing and shouting too

Pink Dress engaging the world that’s around

With hugging and sharing and friendship too

 

Pink Dress only remains for awhile

Soon the child, an adult she becomes

Pink Dress fades with other childhood memories

Of a moment when innocence and happiness reigned free

 

Hold on Pink Dress be wild; be free

Laugh, Run, Dance and Explore

Pink Dress: too quickly another dress you’ll wear

When Time moves on, and childhood fades

 

 

 

 

 

Awe

What is awe?

Is it the same as “being curious”?

Is it like being surprised?

Awe is a mystery.

It is found in children exploring,

Though it hides from adults escaping

 

Why?

For only the daily struggle I see.

Around me flowers bloom.  Clouds roll into odd shapes.

Yet on I trudge -- blind to the world’s treasures

 

To be in awe is experience

Something bigger, something greater

Yet feeling neither small nor defeated

To be in awe is to pause, and reflect

On, how good life can be!

 

To be in awe is to be aware that God is present

That there is a purpose, that there is a plan

It may be a sunset or a rainbow or a simple coincidence

I can ignore or I can stop, look and lose myself

 

And can be in awe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am not you

I am not you

You are not me

I am not a part of “we”

I am one: unique and beautiful.

 

Oh, I have my flaws

I am sure that you do to

I do not fit into a mold

For I am one: unique and smart

 

Daily affirmation seems weird

We are not to think pridefully

I am not a fan of conceit

Yet I am one: unique and proud

 

I am aware of who I am

The good and the bad

I hurt at times

Nonetheless I am one: unique and special

 

I am not you

You are not me

And that is fine

For all is good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Contradiction

There are times when I want to go out and be social

Yet, I do not want to have my space invaded

I want to be free

But bound to my home

I want to laugh

Though inside I want to cry

 

Where is the way to go?

What is the thing I must do?

 

Tell Me!

For I want to be told

It is easier if I just follow along

 

Don’t Tell Me

Let me figure out.

I do not want to be led astray

 

I am confused

I am both sure and unsure

At peace and at war

With myself and with my world

It is all familiar, Yet strange

Anxiously my heart beats

I wish I was brave

To “come what may”

And follow the wind

But. . . .

There is a part of me

That wants to remain

In the back,

Out of the way

Alone but free

 

For, I want to be told

Yet I want also to tell

I want to lead as well as be led

I need to be heard

Yet do not want to speak

 

I live in two worlds at the same time

The one that is,

And the one that is not

The former is the present; it is reality

The later is the presumed; it is imagined

In one I am a humble servant

In the other, a grandiloquent star

 

 

 

 

 

 

Simple

Simple

 

I hear a bird chirping

In a nearby tree

 

I walk along a path

With my dog

 

Nothing is happening

Yet everything is alive

 

The trees sway as the squirrels race,

The wind blows gently across my face

 

I am alive

I am free

 It is not hard to find

Not elusive or remote

It is within and around

 

Simple

Serene

Peaceful

 

 

 

Inflexible

Inflexible

Inflexible it may seem

My life, a scheduled plan

I want to have the same routine

To know what I’ll do next

 

It makes me calm to think

That there is a time for this

And a time for that

With everything in its place

 

But, then something happens

My time somewhere else is needed

So my plans must change

As the unknown I’ll follow

 

Inflexible, they label me

A rigid man they say

Yet somehow I get things done

Somehow I find a way

 

Inflexible is what I like

It is my solace, my comfort

But it is not as it always seems

I can be open for those I love.

 

Short notice

This is what happened. I just returned from a vacation, and immediately got a call to go to work—in one hour. I hate short notice. For I had plans, I had things that I wanted to do: to write, to read, to think. . . But those will have to wait. Plans have been thwarted.

That is how life is. I am usually lucky in that I do not have such short notice. But it can occur.

There are people who are constantly interrupted, whose job seems to entail a series of short notices. Some of these are parents—for kids are always interrupting with some emergency or problem—doctors, especially those in a hospital where an emergency may occur at any moment— police and fire fighters who never receive notice. They always must be ready at a moment’s notice. . .

Semper Paratus is the Coast Guard motto. It means “always ready”. That is a good description of them. Something happens, a call is made, and off they go to rescue or search.

I am not naturally inclined to that. I like things planned, methodical and researched. Yet sometimes I feel the inclination to just go—to be spontaneous. But usuallythis is short-lived. I generally like my schedule.

So, off I go to work. It’ll be ok. I tend to over think, anyway. Now I can avoid that. I only have time to react. It may be better that way.