Surviving
life
love
tradgegy
jobs
marriages
losses
surgeries
near misses
they say you’re a survivor
where’s the joy in surviving?
Where’s the joy in surviving?
Writing
In the moment …
wondering
stuck
confused
tired
abused
In the moment…
it’s time to breathe in and out
to the rhythm of the wind or a count of 5 in, hold 5, out 5
where does the light go when all around looks gray and hazy about ?
go within
breathe in to the count of five
feel the wind on your face
smell the salt air
heal and believe all is well
all is well
~ Anita 2019
Transition
that place in-between
not knowing where you’re headed
and what will be
a place where only Faith can lead
a time for prayer and meditation
served with a glass of mint tea, sunshine and gurgling water
company visits in the form of an occasional hummingbird, butterfly or dove
Transition calls for Faith in the unknown and unseen
for the window to open
space for fresh air and breath
Time to let go and Believe where one will be led will be safe and free
~ Anita Adams 7/31/2019
Let it Go!
It’s okay to be angry !
Write about It.
Let It out.
Don’t bottle It up.
It doesn’t like It.
Treat It like a tea kettle.
Monitor Its heat.
Allow the steam to come out slowly until the heat becomes a hiss and a hiss a whistle, then a quiet hiss.
Let it go.
Sometimes It simmers.
Don’t stuff It with a sock, or beat It up with a rock.
Make friends with the angry one – the It.
Afterall, the angry one was once the kind one and the kind one was once the angry one. You see, they are one in the same. They were both an It.
Make peace with both.
Afterall, they’re both human.
It’s okay to be angry as long as peaceful resolutions evolve.
Let It go like the tea kettle – nice and slow.
Let It all go before the head falls to the pillow, before the feet touch the floor.
Let It go!
– Artist: Unknown
© Anita Adams 2019
At Last
The prompt was to re-write an obituary
Ethel Marie Shamoon Henry, married and Catholic, daughter of two and Situ to one, died age 89 of complications while agonizing over the last pages of her memoir. She couldn’t remember the details upon which she left her home at age 16, mentally or 17, physically? She never understood her life not turning out the way she dreamed – college educated, managing her own business, traveling the globe. Ethel was tired.
She was tired of this story. Tired of her life without the education she longed for and the places she wanted to live and traveled after she’d raised her own children, she was just tired!
Her REAL exhaustion came when she decided to prepare her own obituary and thought to herself – dang woman – haven’t you had enough? When will you begin living the life you wanted? Dreamed of? Longed for? Or, have you been all along, but just hadn’t noticed it in full? Give it up! Turn it over! Live this day the way you want – with whom you want – say what you mean – but, DON’T say it mean! Life is short! Remember, your last sunset. Your last words to those closest to you. The last color you saw. The last bird you heard. The last smile you smiled, The last laugh you laughed. The last prayer you uttered. Remember, smile, laugh and move on.
Move on to TODAY! Are you ready? She opened her eyes while lying peacefully in a down covered hammock next to her pond and waterfall oasis, gazed up at the clouds and said – Yes! It’s been a good life! A Full life! I have loved. I have been loved. I’ve colored, created art and captured. I’ve said what I wanted to say, traveled much, walked and hiked often. And I married a man who loved me until my dying breath. I’m ready.
Just then, her eyes closed again, and this time, she had a soft, childlike smile upon her face, the sun was setting in the west with a rainbow of colors like the one she’d seen so many years ago upon Max Patch. As she exhaled her last breath. Finally, Ethel was at peace and rest. – Amen.
Services will be held in the local Catholic Church with On Eagle’s Wings playing as she is escorted to the grave site of her beloved sister, Roxane. All are welcomed to visit now and again. Bring your favorite heart rock and share one with another. Dark chocolate and coffee to be served.
Anita Adams 4/15/19
Where was love when the light went out?
Where does love go when the light goes out? A question he asked once as a young man in his 60’s . He doesn’t remember asking these days. However, the question is a good one and has remained with me. How to answer this? Love is always present within every human being I believe. For some, a place in the dark could also represent a place of silence, loneliness, or the sound of mental chatter grinding away while one wishes for a lover’s embrace.
As a child, I recall needing two doors left wide open, and a nightlight on at all times in order to feel safe enough to close my eyes and attempt to go to sleep. Where was love in this dark twin bed on the third floor of Macon Avenue?
Why was light the only key to my safety?
Where was love when this light went out?
~ Anita Adams 2/4/2019
Where’s Winter?
Here in Applachia …
land of heavy snowfalls, frost, rime ice and mistletoe
winter seems to have passed us by returning to Spring
daffodils and irises are sprouting through the brown, soggy ground
record rainfalls, fog and plenty of clouds
Where’s winter asks the worms as they squirm along the pavement looking for their home in the darkness of the earth
Where’s winter asks the fish in the pond as they swim around, confused by warm temperatures, sunshine, short days and rain
Where’s winter asks the trees as they sway back and forth confused by the winds of an early Spring…instead of Winter’s frozen ground
Where’s winter asks the farmers as their fields begin to sprout
Where’s winter asks I as I look about?
© Anita Adams 1/2019
