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Posts tagged ‘flowers’

A morning walk

I try to get out and walk every day, which is usually sometime after lunch. In the mornings I have my routine of prayer and meditation, followed by coffee or tea while I journal or read something spiritually uplifting. This little routine I have can sometimes go on for three to four hours, so there goes the morning most days! But I do find it a lovely way to start my day. The other morning though, something in me whispered, “Let’s go for a walk, before the day becomes warm and full of people.” So at 7 a.m. (gasp!) I was up and out of bed, and headed up the steep climb to Washington Park, which is the home of the International Rose Test Garden here in Portland. What a wonderful treat it turned out to be, as I cleared the morning cobwebs from my head and took in the beauty of a place that is so deliciously close to my home, available to me at any time. And the writer in me found inspiration in a few words I journaled about my experience, how it just felt so good – and the words come out in a poem.

It Felt So Good

 

At the top of the hill I stopped

And looked out over the city draped in haze

Sitting on the soft green grass I rested

In a meditative pose

I opened to all the earth’s gentle energies

It felt so good!

Walking through the playground I stopped

To sit on the swing

Slowly moving, to and fro

I gathered my strength and flew above the earth

Gliding through the cool morning air

It felt so good!

Meandering onward I came to the singing fountain

I stopped to sit on the stony edge

And listen to the lovely melodies

Of the water chime as it played on metal

Tantalizing my sense of sound

It felt so good!

I walked along until I spied the splash of colors

Roses in full bloom, roses in the fullness of being

I noticed the brilliant shades and hues

I breathed in the familiar fragrance

I brushed the soft silk of a petal against my skin

It felt so good!

I turned to go home

Along the shaded dirt path

My body swinging with the rhythm of life

My heart open wide like the roses

My soul singing like the fountain

And it felt so good

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Gifts from the rain

I think I’m going to get a t-shirt made that reads: I survived the wettest March on record in Portland. Yes, all you kind people who told me, “It rains all the time in Portland – why would you want to move there?”, you are correct! It does rain here quite a bit, but today the sun came out for a long overdue visit, and I hurried out to take some pictures of the beauty that is a result of all that rain. I saw so many others with cameras in hand, giddy at the break from the rainy days. But truth be told, I will take the constant wetness of rain over the bone-chilling cold of a Minnesota winter any day. I forgive Portland for raining so much lately, and I still find myself in love with this lovely city of so much color.

Gifts on a rainy day

Today was going to be an “inside day”, as I watched the rain pouring down on my skylight, and heard the wind whipping all around. But then my soul had other plans, bringing to me the delicious thought of walking in the rain with my charming red umbrella, my sights focused on having a nice cup of coffee somewhere. And I found a delightful coffeehouse I had not been to before, where I became inspired to write a new poem. I had failed to bring any paper or pen with me, but the nice young man at the counter found me a pen as well as some paper, so I didn’t have to use a napkin as I had originally planned. After I left the coffeehouse, I was led to a bookstore nearby, where I was led to a wonderful book about angels that just happened to be on sale. And as I walked home, the bottoms of my jeans soaked and dragging on the sidewalk, I was given a final gift. I spied the row of bright red tulips, shyly poking their heads out in the cold rain, as if to tell me, “Don’t worry, spring will be here soon!”

Joy’s Disguises

 

I found joy

In the gray blanket of sky

In the cold, wet raindrops that tickled me

In the wind that blew my umbrella inside out

 

I found joy

At the little round table of wood

That held my plain white coffee cup

That contained the warm, brown elixir

That chased away the chill in my bones

As I gazed out the rain splattered window

 

I found joy

As I listened to Patsy Cline singing “I Fall to Pieces”

As we all sat at our separate tables, sipping our coffee

As I watched the rain walkers strolling outside

 

I found joy

In the disguises

Of blindly perceived separation from one another

Of the dreary delusions of a cold, rainy day

Of all I had previously thought of

As joyless

 

 

 

 

 

Messages from nature

So much of our existence here is spent interacting and sharing with other people, that we oftentimes fail to catch a glimpse of the messages of nature. Nature is wise, and calls to us. Once we can slow down enough to connect in that realm, and bask in the quiet required to go beyond our physical senses, there is much we can learn as we find ourselves able to translate nature’s language.

Living For the Moment

 

My flowers live in each moment

They don’t reminisce

About time spent as a seed

Or worry about the past

Did I grow enough?

Did I take too much water for myself?

Did I not bathe in the sunlight long enough?

They learn to grow and move on

To blossom and show their beauty

Not steeping themselves in what has passed

Otherwise, we could never delight

In the beautiful blooms that they become

Winter in a new place

I spent 50 some years used to the seasonal rhythms of the Midwest. That included harsh winters that did not allow flowers to bloom much past October. I am finding that winter in the Pacific Northwest is much kinder to vegetation, and that flowers continue to bloom, even in December. My internal seasonal clock is so confused! I know it is winter, it is colder here, yet I can go for a walk in the park and still see color! That was my chief complaint after last year’s winter in Minnesota; the dull, drab, colorless monotony that dragged on for what seemed an eternity. But here in Oregon I find color that nourishes my soul through the shorter, grayer days. A walk today revealed a dash of flowers here and there, along with moss that hangs like green overcoats on the tree trunks. There are leaves that fall off the trees, just like the Midwest, and they create a soft carpet on the sidewalks. Then I find trees whose leaves look as vibrant and green as they did in the summer months. But I’m not complaining. Soon enough I will be going back to Minnesota for a visit, and I know that I will be missing the winter in my new home.

Flowers in December

 

The roses have given up

Their petals now brown

Too shy to bloom in the cool air

 

But the pansies persevere

Their clown faces and circus colors

Celebrate the winter season

 

Hibiscus hang on

Now faded, washed out blue

On display until the bitter end

 

Cranesbill of delicate purple

Withstand the dropping degrees

And continue to hang on the vine

 

December flowers bloom

Like colorful candy sprinkles

On the muted green foliage

 

 

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