A Strange Request

A strange Request at a Piano Bar

A tiny gasp escapes her lips as the sunlight pierces through the clouds.In a matter of seconds the aged structure is bathed in a bright yellow light, magnifying the deep crevices that mar the faded surface of her grandfather's dream. The, once majestic, Sassafras Lounge.

The sign still hangs, but barely. Beaten by smoke and oxidation. it's remains are a dismal reminder of time's heavy hand and and broken dreams. Now, somber and grey, it looms like a shadow darkening the hollowed windows that mirror the sadness in her soul. 

Juvenile memories flood her mind. Grandpa's twinkling eyes and hearty laughter, his fingers magically flying across the keys of the old mahogany piano. Grandma's enchanting tales of exotic places. Her hands expertly weaving apple red remnants into flowing skirts, and teaching her twirl them to rich ethnic melodies.

She was little then. A child too young to conceive the long term effects prejudice and controversy. But the biting words of the townspeople are still etched in her brain. A carnival, they'd called it. A den of thieves. A den of dirty thieves....
   
"This place, my Mädchen, the music, it was supposed to bring happiness to the people." grandpa whispered, as he watched his world go up in flames. "It was supposed to bring happiness to you..."

The groan of advancing bulldozers jerks her back to reality. The collective buzz of mumbling voices grow as townspeople assemble to witness the curiosity.


Donning a mask of stoicism she grips the walnut butt for balance and continues her daunting trek up the rocky drive. Slow and awkward, she calculates her final steps. Refusing to allow a sprained ankle or broken heart to get in her way, she makes it to the top.

"Get outta the way, lady!" cries a man in a white hard hat. "You crazy or what?" 

She doesn't answer, and doesn't move. But leaning the smooth butt of shotgun beneath her palm, she waits with anticipation. 

The final outcome, she's decides, will be up to them.  

Another March

Another March
sweet 
exquisite words
beautiful sentiments 
inspiring hearts
evoking tears 

Another March
Perspectives shared
humor 
laughter 
knowledge
teaching
learning together 
from one another

Another March
unbridled emotions
compassionate hearts
new friendships found
old friendships renewed
bonds deepened

Another March 
over and well spent
slicing with a talented circle of friends.

Today I'm in love

So here I am on this rainy morning, sipping coffee, listening jazz, wrapping myself in a warmth that cannot be conveyed. 

Silvery gray flecks of light filter through my  shades, subtle hues, leaving my mind to interpret their emotion.

Gentle droplets transform into tiny pools, reminding me of memories long forgotten.

Laughing, giggling, splashing, loving.

No room for dismal and drab, today, I decide.

Today, I shall choose tranquility and joy.

Today, I'm in love with the rain. 

Gliding (a Haiku)

Gliding on a breeze

through sapphire skies he roams

freedom unconstrained

She is Life

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Clear and cool she remains supreme.
our earth, her playground
she provides.

Pure cascading droplets
transmute into energy before wondering eyes.
sparkling, trickling
splashing, spraying, sprinkling
misting and rumbling, 

She roars.
She rules. 
she reigns.

She is power.
She is water.
She is life.

Her son

They were the same she and him, cut from the same cloth. She could practically read his thoughts. His stormy eyes flashed in her direction, stabbing her with the depth of his despair.

Her instinct was to console him. To touch his shoulder, to coo soft reassuring words, to smooth his tousled curls like she had when he was little.

Instead, she sat in silence, absorbing his pain, wrapping herself in the protective armor that is motherhood.

The hands of time had gently shifted her place, but she didn't fret. For everything was as it was meant to be.

With compassion in her soul and thankful heart, she lovingly stepped aside.

Her son, she knew, would be okay.

After all, he was in the very best of hands. 

And another tear falls

She tosses and turns. Ripping the blanket off her weary body, she flings it into the night. Too hot, too cold.  The PM's she took an hour ago have done nothing to relieve the pounding in her head. The incessant voices continue to wrack her brain with endless agitation. Too exhausted to move, her mind is her prison.

So very very selfish, she scolds herself harshly. You should be ecstatic! What's wrong with you? You're stronger than this! Get a damned grip!

She realizes there's no winning.

Her chastisement only serves to escalate the very guilt she's trying to shirk. 

She had convinced herself she was getting better. 

She replays the events of the last few days. The ups, the downs, the helplessness, the hope. The thirty plus sleepless hours she'd made it through with barely a thought. She had been strong. She had stayed focused. She had done what she needed to do for the sake of their son.

She'd been swept up in the joy and elation with everyone else. 
Like waking to sunshine after a long stormy night, she could feel God's hand as she cradled, for the very first time, their God given angel. 

The angel he should have been here to see. 

Now, as she lay alone in her bed, she allows it to consumes her. The aching loneliness, the familiar feeling of soul gripping gloom.

Why? she whispers, can't you be here with us? 

And why, she wonders, can't I accept that you're not?

Exhausted from fighting a battle she knows she can't win...she gives in.

For it seems that it's in her happiest moments, she finds herself missing him most...

and another tear falls.....