When a poem calls out to be written,
pull off the road.
It will take
you where
your
soul
wants
to
go.
JDG
When a poem calls out to be written,
pull off the road.
It will take
you where
your
soul
wants
to
go.
JDG
A clear, sunny day –
perfect in every way for
exercise and play.
JDG
Outside my window
a pine tree grows – way station,
highway, haven, home
of shy tree flowers who fade
into bark and branch;
colorful standouts, flapping
wings; high-flying squirrels,
dancing on outstretched limbs. One
large tree which they all
share. I greet them with a bow,
thank them for showing us how.
JDG
It isn’t magic.
It took repeated practice
before I began
to feel really good. Hmm, it
might be magic after all.
JDG
At that doggie spa
I swear I saw a sign that said,
“Poo for lease.”
JDG
Friday, another
no school snow day. Exercise
helps me keep my sanity.
JDG
The snow is gently
held by the community
of trees, and when it’s
time, one by one, they allow
the snow to go. Their
roots are firmly grounded in
the natural order of things.
JDG
As I exercised,
I watched birds feed in the snow.
Our kitten couldn’t
seem to decide who was more
a spectacle – birds or me.
JDG
Snow?
Again?
The weather’s
not my friend –
not today
anyway.
My grandkids,
though, beg
to differ
as they
shout, all
aquiver,
“No school!
Snow!
Again!”.
JDG
The Universe must have had enough
of me and my worrisome moods.
Grabbing a pen to jot down
my daily poem, I found one already there.
Short and to the point, it read:
Big Trip
Short Fuse
Deep Breath
Just Cruise.
When I wrote it, I don’t know,
but what I do know is this –
the Universe is a poet too,
and just to make this crystal clear,
showed me a license plate that read
LUVJG24.
LUVJG24, that’s what, three years ago, the license plate on a stranger’s car said. I read it on a day I was feeling pretty low. The synchronicity of it startled me and at first I took it as a reminder that I, whose initials are “JG”, am loved 24 hours a day whether I am aware of it or not. A few days later I realized it could also be read as an injunction, telling me, JG, to love 24 hours a day. I then wrote the poem above and posted it on my blog in April of 2015. In the intervening years I have recalled that day and marveled at the unlikelihood of that strange happening.
Today, I was sitting with a question that has been occupying me lately: “How can I best serve others and myself in the time I have remaining?” when I recalled, once more, the message the universe sent me via a license plate three years ago. The universe, it seems, has infinite patience and will keep repeating it until I finally catch on and let myself be guided by it.
JDG