I thought life was a play,
with the script composed
for the role I was to inhabit.
Designated stage directions
were set for me to follow
for my life to work out seamlessly.
All that was required was for me to
hit my assigned marks:
education, career, marriage, children,
for the production to be a success.
But others refused to
perform their parts,
changing the scene,
or departing before the play was finished,
leaving me floundering
on the boards, alone.
It took time for me to realize
that life had always been improv:
unscripted, hard turns, unpredictable.
I never had control of the narrative,
which caused needless suffering
in the light of the pain that is a part of existing.
Until I let go of demanding that my life
followed a script was I truly free
to find joy in the unknowing.
It taught me that every moment
was saying “yes, and” to whatever entered my life.
Tag: Grief and Joy
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Life’s Unscripted Journey
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I Love You This Much
“Such strange math. The way it takes so little to create a joy so large.” Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Little did I know,
my sweet Hummingbird friend,
that all the special qualities
that I have ascribed to you
when you flit about me
were already known by generations of Native Americans.
Your mere presence and perfection
reminds me of how much I am loved,
that something so perfect exists in the world
is a gift that I never take for granted.
I feel immense joy as I watch you maneuver
backwards and forwards, diving down to your favorite flower,
to fill yourself with nectar, satisfying your hunger.
You put on an air show with maneuvers
that would put the best pilot to shame.
And if the stars are aligned,
I get to see you at rest on a branch,
or bathing in a reflecting pond,
taking a moment to breathe in the world.
I stop as I take in your minute details,
calmness overtaking me as I
cherish this time we spend together.
You bring me hope and healing when my soul is troubled,
reminding me that there’s time to explore the world,
but I must rest as well, if I’m to absorb
the splendor that surrounds me. -
Strange Bed Fellows
How they walk, hand in hand,
forever intertwined,
grief and joy,
never knowing who will pop up.
The inexplicable joy that starts
at the crinkles of your eyes caused
by the curving of your lips
as they turn upwards in a smile.
It is the warm, tingly feeling in your chest
as your heart celebrates your friend’s good fortune
or the beauty that surrounds you.
The ecstasy shines out from your body
with the strength of the summer sun.
And you think this bliss will last forever,
only to have grief roar in
with the ferocity of a winter blizzard,
causing whiteout conditions
that make it hard to navigate
what once was a breezy, clear day.
The wind will chill your weary soul
as it grasps to find its footing.
The weight will come,
crashing down on your chest,
making it hard to breathe.
Your eyes will glisten with tears,
as the river spills down your cheeks.
Looking up from the valley floor,
you wonder once again,
“How will I ever get back to the top of the hill?”
And the amazing thing is this all
can happen within minutes of each other.
So, you learn to hold each hand with gentleness,
knowing that love has knit them together
as part of the bargain of living.
Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems 