For Jesse
How wondrous the light of love
that shines from the eyes of a new parent as they gaze upon the new life that
they hold close to their heart.
A gift created by the deep love they have for each other.
This sweet little person,
the picture of perfection,
with their cute little toes and fingers,
and their adorable face,
possesses the power to mesmerize,
even in those early sleep deprived days.
For time slows down as the world
continues its hurried pace.
For this moment in time,
the only thing that matters
is the beginning of a lifelong love story
Tag: life
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Sweet Beginnings
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Because Everything Falls Away
In a finite world where I’m here but for a moment,
I savor the first bite of toast with homemade blueberry jam
and the spicy warmth of my morning chai
as I break the fast of sleep.
I savor my family, those who are still with me,
and those who I carry in my heart and memories.
I savor my friends, who walk with me through all
of the seasons of life.
Their friendship is the balm for my soul,
A place where I can be my genuine self, sharing laughter,
tears and deep conversations.
I savor the warmth of arms that envelope me in a hug,
reminding me that I am loved.
I savor nature’s beauty: the hummingbird, the bee,
and the butterfly as they alight from flower to flower,
refreshed by its nectar.
I savor breathing in the air as I amble along
the garden path or among the tall pines,
a place where deep serenity abides.
I savor the beauty of the sky as it shakes off the blue of the day,
and dresses in its pastel finery
before slipping away below the horizon.
I savor the quiet moments tucked up with a book,
as I’m spirited away to another time and place,
freed from the worries of the world.
At the end of the day, when my body and mind are weary,
I savor slipping into the comfort of my bed,
pulling the covers tightly around me,
slipping away to the nighttime cinema. -
13 Christmases
Traditions change as time moves on.
From the magical mornings of childhood,
Standing at the top of the stairs,
Waiting for the sheet to be pulled down
That would reveal the awaiting presents under the lit tree.
Teenage years met with the blasé response
That occurs with the knowledge of who has
left the presents
And the angst of adolescence.
How fresh the season felt as we celebrated
Our first Christmas as a married couple.
Watching holiday movies and shows,
Our tree decked out, carols playing.
Celebrating our joy together, alone,
Before spending time with family.
With the birth of our children brought a new enchantment
as we saw the excitement of Christmas through their eyes.
They’d wait at the top of the stairs,
Like when I was a child,
Their little bodies vibrate with anticipation
Of what Santa left.
This is the before world,
The world that I could make sense of.
The one where you were still with me.
Thirteen years have passed since we celebrated
Our last Christmas,
Not knowing it would be our last.
Those first years were brutal,
From Thanksgiving until the new year
My body ached with missing you.
Tears came easily as the decorations and music
That once brought delight
Now were hollow and painful.
I’d avert my eyes as I’d get groceries
From the festive lights and messages of joy and togetherness,
but I could not block out the singers blaring from the speakers
through the aisles, with their empty promises of Christmas peace.
Our family traditions changed.
What once was Christmas Eve
Dinner around the dining table
was replaced with dinner
At a local restaurant,
No reminders of Christmas past.
With time, the pain eased, though never erased.
Every year, no matter how well I think I’m doing,
The grief hits me during December, and I’m
Still surprised by the ache. This was your favorite season,
When you found the most peace.
Now, I live alone.
I get to choose how I observe Christmas.
The decorations are minimal, the baking has been reduced.
Christmas Eve and day are celebrated with my found families.
I still wear the last Christmas gift you gave me,
A silver Mobius strip on a chain.
It reads, “I love you. I love you more.”
The message of love and connection
That is never-ending.
Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems 