Writing Wings For You

Marie Lukasik Wallace ~ # I LIVE Poetry – I'm passionate about life and writing and all things creative and poetic!


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If You and I were Having Coffee continued

coffee cup

If you and I were having coffee, I would tell you the story of why I became obsessed with sunflowers this summer.  I grew these ENORMOUS plants with strong stalks and deep roots from tiny seeds. The best part was when I left for my Trip Across America, they were not very big.  When I got home, they had gone over the roof of my solarium,  Honestly, I gasped out loud, and oh, what a reverence i held for their beauty.

Next, I would tell you, that every day since that day I have watched these beauties, I began seeing them as metaphors for life and began studying all their unique facets, not book knowledge, but detail knowledge.  Sunflowers caused me to pause and to look closer and to ponder.

Here’s one way you can live as a sunflower.  Sunflowers live LARGE and MAGNIFICENCE with no apology.  They are uniquely themselves in all their glory.  In a way, they are spiritual, always seeking their source, their energy, their vitality, the sun.  Even as they die, they die with grace and ever seeking the sun.

If you and I were having coffee, I would tell you that I feel so incredibly blessed for our friendship.  I know that you are the kind of friend that I could lose touch with for 30 years, and talk with you, and it would feel as if we had spoken yesterday.  I could tell you anything.  If I faltered and misspoke or made a mistake, you would know I was human and hold me in Divine love like the word “Namaste.”     And I KNOW you know I’d treat you the same.

If you and I were having coffee.  I would be fully present and devour every moment for I find you extremely amusing and truly cherish our friendship.  We could tell each other dreams of peace and a better world, and because our space became enlightened and sacred, the world began to shift.

If you and I were having coffee, it would be a most glorious day.

May you have a most blessed weekend my friends.   Here is a Throwback Thursday of a poem with Michael at Poetry Channel – If You and I were Having Coffee

Namaste,

Marie

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It’s the Small Things

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When I wrote, “Where are you Daddy?”  I was really lost.  It seems like a rollercoaster of emotions this grieving thing.  I don’t like it much…but I understand the need for it.  I also know that there is beauty and glory in all of it.

It’s the little things that remind me of him…my daddy.  My sister and I balled when we went to his house and saw peppermints  on the counter.  He always had them with him in his pocket.  You see my dad quit smoking 30 years ago, and his peppermints replaced that habit…so you can imagine, he always had a pocketful.  Then, my sister taught him how he could let the grand kids sneak up on his lap and steal one out of his pocket.  We built those memories together.  At the same time, he also replaced beer with Sam’s cola.  So, if we were at the store, he would ask us to get him beer & cigarettes…cola and peppermints.  What fond memories.

I still hear him through music, even if it’s music we didn’t listen to together.  Sometimes it’s the emotion or feeling that will zip right to my heart and remind me of him.   Last summer on a road trip, and when he was in the nursing home, we listened to a lot of Carole King, Tapestry.  He sure loved that album…I listened to it over and over while he would sleep.  What a brilliant, soulful woman who gets to the heart of everything.   While I listened, I KNEW which songs would be at his funeral…funny thing is that others have used “Way Over Yonder” for funerals before…and I never knew it.  I just knew that at that at the time my daddy was in the most pain of his physical body, I prayed for his sweet release and told him he could visit “yonder” anytime he wanted…and that his mama and papa would greet him.  And I also knew that the song “I Feel the Earth Move Under my Feet” would be played at the end…because my daddy would want people dancing, not crying.  Even the last week of his time on earth, when he could barely move, he would rock in his chair or tap a finger to that song.  It will always be our song.

I believe with all my heart that he graces me with his loving presence every day.  I just get to be still and listen and look.  It will be in the little things, the song of a bird, a dog that looks like his, or maybe even a Sam’s Cola.