I am longing for spring but still trying to find beauty in these deep winter days. Here are a couple of poems I have been working on. Yet another layer of my “being” practice. How do you instill a sense of the present tense and paying attention to the moment in your daily life? Yoga? Going for a walk or run? Breathing? Meditation? Writing? Making music? Drinking tea? There are many ways to practice being present!
An another note: I am subbing one more Saturday 9:30am All Levels Yoga this week on February 8th at Willow Yoga in Arlington Heights! Hope to see you on the mat or perhaps outside drinking up the cold, crisp air.
Peace, Love and Namaste,
A Sunny Day in Early February
The winter overcast was so thick
I could slice it with a butter knife
smooth and soft and edgeless and
endlessly peeling back the layers
upon layers, grey upon grey,
until finally the sky revealed itself
in early morning hues of pink turning
blue so rich and almost warm I wanted to
drink in its beauty, bathe in its color,
sing myself into a song of light
that would last me until spring.
Consider the pine, the conifer, the spruce
the fir, the holly, the juniper.
A tree always green even in the depths
of the seemingly endless and bleak winter.
Ever optimistic, staying jolly all year
despite the rest of the neighborhood
falling into a state of utter loss.
They stand tall and proud
green needles against the cold sky
boughs outstretched as if to say
“Here I am. I am here. As I have always been.”
Hoping that they will be remembered.
their beauty not forgotten during the
other seasons, when the evergreen
fades into the background against
nature’s other vibrant colors.
Remember Summer I
I miss the sound of bird song
the chatter high in the trees
calling me home to
a place I have seem to forgotten
except for in dreams and wishes
the memory slipping through my fingers
like the ceaseless winter wind.
How I wish I knew what their conversations were all about:
The weather? A lover? The meaning of life?
In the summer it is a constant hum in the background
a drone at which I go about my daily rituals and tasks.
But now, in the dead of winter, what I wouldn’t give for
their endless noise, the thrilling laughter of
the world coming alive again.