Waiting Room – a Dream

Window Looking Out


Walking up the sidewalk to a home I used to live in many years ago,

The wooden door swings open and my eyes adjust to what was once familiar, is now quite changed.

As I enter my past home of 18 years, I notice, there are many rooms and hallways.

Winding around a few corners, I stop in what appears to be the center of this elongated home in a narrow room with hardwood floors with white ship lap walls.

The picture-less walls are painted in Navajo White. The room’s contents contain one azure blue two-seater fabric sofa along the right side of the room with a rectangular window above it. There are no curtains. The window frame is thin, black metal.

Just beyond the position of the sofa, is a four-legged antique kitchen table, circa 1960 with a clay red top and a single seam in the middle.

The ceiling, white bead board. There are no rugs on the floor, nothing on the table or sofa. There’s a view from the narrow window of the treetops only and the house is silent.

A friend of mine now lives here. I’m quite surprised at how she has each room designated for a particular purpose. A living room. A writing room. A kitchen. A bedroom, bathroom. I’m asking myself what is this room? It finally dawns on me, this is the waiting room.

This dream of the Waiting Room represents to me a time of introspection, a time to be still, a time to evaluate purpose and direction of life. Is a call to slow down and pause. A time of transition.

©Anita Adams 12/2017

circa 1980 why I chose to wear black

Wearing Black Anita


as a young woman to dress becomingly in the eyes of men invited unwanted EVERYTHING

i chose to wear black as a cloak of invisibility

wearing black sent a clear message about the wearer

who did not wish to

be seen


talked to

safety is paramount

wearing black allows the wearer to survive another day

has been traumatized

being seen is unsafe

in survival mode

black is safe, color is not

© Anita Adams 2017



An Autumn morning


by the bass pond


leaves falling




yellow, orange, red, brown and green hues flank the lake

mallords quacking

crow squawking

waterfall trickling

autumn is here

without the cold, without snow



it’s okay to grieve

the loss of seasons, family, friends, youth, lymph nodes, partial breast, hearing, memory, eyesight

Listen to the sounds of nature, the leaves falling, the mallards, the crow, the wind

See the trees, my friends, God in nature, all around me

thank you God

©Anita Adams 2017

Getting through it

Adams Family circa 1966

How does one get through it

from the beginning as a child, helpless and homeless

with love and tenderness

questions and falls

How does one get through it

from teenage years, believing the knowledge learned is all that’s needed to survive

bad decisions, determination, and a decision  to survive, not die

How does one get through it

with faith, prayer, friends and an inner longingness to answer one’s call

©Anita Adams 2017



Love and Loss

Someone once asked Where does love go when the lights go out?

Love is love – it’s an action – it’s a dance – it’s a balancing act

Loss brings one to their knees – to the ground – spinning them around

Love is loss turned inside out and upside down

Where does love go when the lights go out?  To sleep I imagine – to dream – to hope and believe.

©Anita Adams

FLAMING JUNE by Frederic Leighton 1895

Flaming June

Another shared Poem

Prescription for the Disillusioned

Come new to this
day. Remove the rigid
overcoat of experience
the notion of knowing,
the beliefs that cloud
your vision.

Leave behind the stories
of your life. Spit out the
sour taste of unmet expectation.
Let the stale scent of what-ifs
waft back into the swamp
of your useless fears.

Arrive curious, without the armor
of certainty, the plans and planned
results of the life you’ve imagined.
Live the life that chooses you, new
every breath, every blink of
your astonished eyes.

From Francis Weller’s website: http://www.wisdombridge.net