to ride the wind
like a whirligig
in the browning
stage of life…to
spin adrift on
the vortex of one’s
own imagining, having
snapped free from
the tip of rooted
branches that burrow
deep into the heart…to
drift to earth only to
split asunder…and
when all seems
lost, to explode
into rooting tendrils
reaching deep
deep, deep…
sometimes one
must abandon
everything…
surrender in free
dizzy-ing fall,
to find home.
kat 2015
There, tucked under a
canopy of translucent
green, ’tis not the budding
blooms, but a pair of
whirligigs that draws
me deep.
kat 2015
“Come see my garden,” she would say, with a twinkle in her eye as if she was offering me the key to her heart. She was. I would learn this, when on a cool, clear evening, I took her up on her invitation.
The garden’s portal was an arched gateway. Flanked by trees and curving flower beds, the garden extended from the house to the alley, an eclectic variety of benches, of stone and wood, were situated throughout the space. Each became its own tiny corner of the world offering a unique vantage point of the surroundings for those pausing to reflect. Like tiny worlds within worlds. Near the entrance, a great old tree hung heavy with a gaggle of hatchlings chattering for their next meal. A yearly event, I was told, this particular tree being a favorite nesting place of this latest brood’s parents. And my favorite spot yet, was a small corner nook set aside just for the faeries. I lost myself in faerie whisperings there. I could live here, I thought.
Witnessing such beauty lulled me into a sense of deep peace. What a gift was hidden just behind the white picket fence of her century old home. And how blessed I felt to have been invited to visit. It is an evening I will never forget. Honored am I to have known this creative, lovely soul who recently crossed beyond the veil. I have no doubt she will be tending a magnificent garden wherever she is. Crossing over myself, when that time comes, feels sweeter to me now, imagining her there.
kat ~ June 2015
Every now and then I scroll through the profiles of the people Facebook thinks I ought to know. Be it through mutual friends or employment or school or events…our personal profiles provide all sorts of juicy data for social media engines to search and analyze. Part of me feels violated by this scrutiny but another part of me secretly hopes to connect with an old friend or a distant long-lost relative. So I engage in this ever churning game of cyber hide and seek. It’s a virtual hunt for something we all treasure. Relationships and meaningful connections with those familiar faces who knew us once upon a time.
This evening I found myself flipping through the latest offering of happy faces, pet portraits, silly selfies and artistic still life’s. We’re a creative species and some of us put a lot of effort into creating profile pictures that represent our true nature. Or at least how we’d like to be seen by the world.
And then I happened upon a photograph of a silly big beaked yard ornament bird looking at what appeared to be the first buds of spring sprouting from a barren spot in a flower bed. And her name. It was one I knew well. One of my very best friends from high school. And yes, she had posted the perfect profile picture. It was totally HER!
In fact I had connected with her last fall when our 40th reunion was being planned. Unable to attend I promised myself a trip home in the next year so we could connect face to face. I never knew she had a social media account, which explained why she showed up on my “you should be friends” list. But a quick jump to her page revealed that the posts ended late the following spring. Of course I already knew why. My dear friend, who I never got back home to see, had passed away.
And yet here she was. Her profile had continued to live on in cyberspace. I was tempted to “friend” her. It was comforting to think that it might be possible to connect with her one last time. And sad to realize that my friend request would ultimately not be accepted. Though I am certain if things were different she would friend me back. We were tight like that.
I have other friends on my account who were my social media friends before they passed from this life to the next. I like to check in on them. Others visit them too. I know because they post little messages. The chatter always escalates around anniversaries, birthdays and holidays. It’s a bizarre practice, but one that seems to bring comfort and healing to those, like me who cannot bear the thought of “unfriending” our loved one. Not yet. Social media is magical place where eternity is real.
I miss my friend and am saddened even more that time robbed us of a chance for one last hug and to lose ourselves in one of our epic giggle-fests. To see that familiar sparkle in her eyes. When sorrow gets the best of me I know that I can always find her here. A snapshot in time. A profile pic that captured the essence of a life fully lived. Her essence. And I will probably linger a while. And smile softly, enfolded by memories. The very best visits among friends after all, are spent in silent knowing where words are optional.
Kat~ June 2015 (photo credit~MLC 1956-2015)
like mercury colliding... 