It has been awhile since I have been on here sharing the newest happenings in my life. Poems from the Secret Place is still making its debut in the greater ROC NY area as Pittsford Barnes & Noble Booksellers warmly welcomed me for a book signing event a couple weeks ago. You may find it in two locations there: Poetry and Local Authors. I also discovered that The Wondrous Story of the Little Shoe is now housed there in a different location, having been moved from Children’s Picture Books to Children’s Poetry & Classics. I am deeply grateful and honored.
So here we are in February, in what feels like the thick of a long, dark winter. The tug to hibernate is strong and the skies are often dull. Today however, I received a fresh invitation to stop and linger in a different kind of light.
I was driving, returning home from doing errands on a snowy afternoon. Approaching my driveway, I was grateful to have made it home safely. My thoughts, however, were interrupted as I was sensing a gentle draw to the cul-de-sac circle at the end of my street where the woodlands meet our property.
“Why don’t you pull over and stop?” came a gentle prompting. It was so peaceful, my heart instantly yielded. I have learned when those quiet tuggings of the soul come, I have much to gain if I respond. And so I did.
My car was in park. So was I. My schedule disappeared for a time and it was as if all of the clocks in the world stopped. It was just me, beholding the snow, in a solitude of quietude. Everything within me was at rest and being made new in those slow motion moments. I was seeing it, sensing it, experiencing it for the first time. Inside me, the little girl, teen, young woman, middle aged mother and wise woman of later years were all there, surrendering to the wonder and the peace.
Sensing the majestic but humble presence of nature’s and my mutual Creator was aweing and renewing. Both of us were being covered and nurtured with tender affection. And then the words started to flow from a place deep in my inner wells.
When poems announce themselves and ask to be written, one needs to be ready to partner with them. If ignored, they may not show themselves again. If you are fortunate, sometimes their memory lingers and you can prompt them back. I surrendered. What you are about to read came from those moments I was invited into. I likewise invite you now to stop and linger in these two penned attempts to share the wonderment of today. I also invite you to respond with a reply at the end. Have you shared any moments like these? I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you.
New Snow
White, untouched glory
being shed,
fresh from the sky
sets down
in gentle display
creating anew all things
as nature graciously receives
the tender gift
in the roaring, majestic quietude.
Tender Gratitude
Winter snows
come anew.
Virgin quietude
covering with kindness
nature’s soul
… and mine, in rest.
I watch… and yield,
in tender gratitude.