Spiky bulbous heads
show off their summer beauty
Soak the sun all in.
These flowers are the perfect examples of how we change with time and perspective. I used to think these flowers were the ugliest in my garden. Maybe it was because they weren’t the intense color of purple that I love…maybe because they look a little weedy on the bottom. But when I focus my camera lens differently and I look at the flower from different angles, and I really begin to notice…THERE….I find beauty. If you blow the picture up on your screen, you can see the cool TEXTURE of the middle. How many flowers have spiky middles and flourish on the outside? And they grow tall and elegant and stand far above the rest of the crowd.
If I apply this to life, what else would I see if I changed my camera lens and focused on something different?
Glorious, radiant beauty…and gold in every soul.
Happy Sunday my friends,
What a beautiful tribute. Reminds me of my daddy who passed recently. I have his watch too…
(I hope you don’t mind me reblogging this.)
When he died, he left me his watch. “To remember our times together…” his note said. His second gift, I found in a small black satin bag, tied with silver ribbon. Inside… a single seed. “So you’ll always know what it feels like to hold a universe,” read the card…but I’ve gotten ahead of my story …he would have hated that.
I grew up with giant. A man I called, “Gi.” Walking on his feet, fluttering though his house, dancing on his toes and planting wildflower seeds in his gardens. “Be gentle” he would say, as we dropped the tiny seeds into the earth. “You’re holding a universe. If you plant it and nurture it’s life, it will give it’s life back to you and become the air you breathe and the food you eat…” In one life, he had been a farmer~ in my life, a Grandfather.
View original post 41 more words
When my kids were growing up, there were so many magical times. Mostly what I loved, is that there was an air of acceptance for all of us. We were a blended family. By statistics, we probably shouldn’t have done as well as we had…but honestly, there was so much love in our home. Love got us through the sticky times.. By many standards, we weren’t perfect…but for each other, we were.
Enjoy my poem of our old childhood home…Three girls and neighbors who loved us.
Home of oozy goozy mud art
proudly displayed on each child’s belly
and perfect bouffant.
Home of last minute backyard campouts
of roasted hotdogs and marshmallows
because our neighbor Ray had made
an “emergency” run to the store.
Home of Friday night pizza
dance videos and mini fractured fairytale skits
for a dozen giggly girls.
Home of make-shift forts
of bunkbeds and sheets
And “when do you think you’ll be taking that down?
I need to water my lawn.”
Home of visqueen and duct tape slip and slides
and neighbors who helped realtors take the signs down
to ensure our stay.
Talks over fences
Neighbors mowing our lawns because we were crazy busy
Junior’s eyes dancing with delight as Sophie, our dog,
Accepted his table treasures.
Flooding waters making wading pools
Splashing and running carefree through them.
No kitchen table…but couch trampolines.
Home of 2 families weaving themselves
into one fabric
and clothing themselves
in their warmth and gaiety.
Where mommy is melted on the front porch.