Cloudy with a Chance of Optimism

We come upon words that touch our thought. Thoughts that we otherwise push away, differ to the more important aspects of life, at that moment.
Forgetting that what surrounds us, encases us and all the beauty that it truly holds.

We let life cloud the vision of the truer reality that stands before us...beckoning us, if we are listening. Waiting. The most patient mistress we all have within our lives.

Do we listen? Do we heed her foretelling? Her need to share the beauty she holds within our grasp?

How many times dow e go about our daily business, oblivious to our surroundings?

A part of myself that I have always embraced and never really shared, due to when I did share I was given looks of disdain or just that I was being silly. That what I spoke of held no importance in the importance of the daily tasks at hand.
I had and have and do, take those moments and revel in what they hold for me.
The blackbirds and theri dance of flight. Whatever the meaning or what they are truly doing, it is the beauty of that flight that captures me.
The flags along a busy road. Paying no mind to the meaning of that flag and all it encompasses, yet the beauty of how the flag waves, the gentleness of the breeze that calls attention to the meaning that it holds. That slight wave, the unfurling encapsulates that meaning. Making it more important.
I revel in these moments now, an attempt to recapture what I had pushed aside for years. Lost in the minutia of the day. The moment. Lost in the tiredness of living.
These moments alleveating that fatigue.
Creating an optimism for going on. To capture(recapture) something that was lost in days past. Days spent worrying of bills, the drive to work, the moment of existing.

There is beauty in all, in everyday living. Taking the moment it takes to google something, text something...find it, hold it. That is what we take with us. Not the material we surround ourselves with, no. The most precious of life is there for us, we just can't hold it in the palm of our hand.

In the Hue of Blue

On a bright September afternoon, the warmth of not only the sun on my skin, yet words spoken.
Promises given.
A soft light chatter.
And you.

Days were numbered.
Words counted.

As if time stood still. And yesterday was now.
So much has filled the days. All good and fulfilling.
And still the grayness hovers.

I knelt in the wet grass and sought out some comfort. Long has it been since I have sat in this spot. Fifteen years to be exact.
I broke that promise today.
The reasons for not, are not just for promises.
For the reality comes.
Comes heavy.

"Do not kneel at my grave. Do not cry, for I am not there."
No you are not.
Compelled today, to seek this out. To touch the stone, to read the name.
To weep.

concrete.

A day of glee with the children, for the impending night of frolic is at hand. Which shall distract me.
Enough.

Ghosts and goblins all in their best. Behind the outward smile...a bit of tears to escape.

I wish to find the right...words. To put it all in it's place.

Dad...I miss you.


GVO October 31, 1930- October 27 1994

143
Josephine

A background story I share: Remembering Spanky