photo taken in Cabo San Lucus, Mexico by C. Dennis-Willingham
She is an old, old woman
full of grace but wisdom more
She rocks within her sinewed arms
a child from long before.
She serves as a reminder
(Through an image made of stone)
those passed are not forgotten, thus
we never are alone.
She might be old
The sheet music holder broken
A couple of keys out of whack
Her tone a bit askew
But these aging fingers remember the feel of her shiny keys
From when my hands were small
If I were a cow
I would roam beneath a mountain
and drink from a cool stream.
If I were an Arrowleaf flower
I would grow on a mountain hillside
and smile proudly at the hikers passing by.
If I were the remains of an old mining cable
I would stare at the mountains
and remember a time
when miners depended on my strength
to transport their coal.
If I were a wooden bridge
I would keep walkers safe as they crossed
and as they stopped in my middle
to admire the the mountain stream view
And if I were a mountain
I would look to the clouds and smile.
Although I love a beautiful mountain lake,
for me, there is something about a running stream,
always moving,
never stagnant,
always changing,
going somewhere new.
So happy I hiked in Colorado long enough to see it!
Life is a carousel, don’t you think? We go round and round, a circle of life, trying to catch the best parts.
Sometimes, the ride is slow, like one at a kiddie park. Or maybe the ride never starts. Perhaps something is broken, the belt ceases to move, and you are left without your luggage. (That’s a good thing. Get rid of the baggage!)
Other times, we are on a grand adventure of beauty and magic. I say, if we must go round and round in life, let’s ride on this one.
But whatever we do, let’s not choose the stationary seat. It might seem pretty but it also means we’re playing it safe.
Instead, choose one that moves you up and down, makes you giddy from the inside out, and leaves you smiling.
… ponder with intention.
Serendipitously, I looked over toward the mirror in my bathroom and saw this — the reflected image of my past with my husband and kids — a reminder of where we were and how far we’ve come. As I like to say, “there goes that universe again.” Once again, the awareness of life, love, and the passage of time, deepens. I am grateful.
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 