Love and purpose…

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I was talking with a friend at Thanksgiving. She’s a bit older and told me that considering her age, she is getting to feel that it is best to be accepting of situations and be as happy as possible, in a kind of reverent stoic monastic way. It was kind of odd to hear this coming from someone who appears to be very social and happy, but we don’t always know what others think of their situations, until they tell us.  She said God gave her this lonely fate and must want her to be this way so that she moves closer to Him, when He is her company and comfort.

My view? I am all for faith, and being close to God. Without prayer and hope and answers in my dismal times, I honestly don’t know where I’d be today, or If I’d be today.

However, I also believe that we were given talents, made in “His image and likeness” yet each of us unique and valuable, “a piece of the continent, a part of the main.”  I am meant to use my gifts and talents, and you, too, in your own special way.

I was made loving. I was made nurturing. Those are qualities that are meant to be shared. So, I won’t relinquish any hopes of Love or a truly loving relationship with a man I’ve yet to meet, out there in the universe somewhere.  And of course, kindness too is meant to be shared with others:  friends, co-workers, neighbors, even strangers along my path (you know what I mean, if you’ve been reading here for any length of time : )

Whatever your talents and gifts, be grateful for them, put them to good and honorable use. That’s how the world becomes a better place. That’s how lives become better.

See that sun up in the sky? Imagine it smiles down upon you as it warms you. See the trees and flowers you pass every day? The clouds tumbling by? They are for you. Enjoy, each day, as you make your way through this world. Yes, this world can be harsh, but that’s why we are not meant to be alone, and why we are meant to be kind to one another…

or so is my own personal philosophy. Feel free to borrow or acquire it, anytime, especially if you need to cheer curmudgeons in your midst. Do you happen to run into such resigned souls in your holiday travels, or is it just me? I think that they secretly want me to cheer them. There is no mistletoe up as yet, no eggnog nor caroling, so I do my best!

Wishing you peace, happiness, and of course Love.

~ Lily

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Phone a friend.

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Phone a Friend… 

(or: No Organic Red Potatoes Tonight)

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Find a friend

when dismal

is beginning to feel normal

walk

with friend

talk

because you need to do so

and likely so does she or he

and then

because you miss your social whirl and

sparkling dinners,

have dinner with your friend

and laugh,

laugh in the face of misery

say good-bye to lonely

smile to exercise all facial muscles

so there will be no atrophy

while your world realigns

as of course it will.

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Small gifts.

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Is this what it’s come to?

Happiness is

finding a perfect avocado

in the market,

contentment is

fridge and cupboards once again full,

or laundry done

and neatly folded?

Fun is the exhilaration

of a brisk walk

in sunshine,

crimson leaves dancing or

gold contrasted on dark bark?

Expectations down,

or life simplified,

appreciation found?

If I don’t want for much

disappointment abates,

if I don’t long for much

my heart patiently waits,

but as I walk fast

I beat pain I beat

a mortal enemy

and victorious in

the mirror I see

a small smile,

a gift to the world

in my simplicity.

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What will you be for Halloween?

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What will you be for Halloween,

as the air acquires a chill

and seeps in among your aching bones,

as leaves brittle and brown

circle in gusts of wind around you?

As you walk along the sidewalks

with your hands, your cold hands,

in your coat pockets

as you crush and kick the accumulation

of crispness along the paths?

What will you be for Halloween

as you wonder if

snow flakes will fly

with the dark clouds

racing across the orange sky?

As you smile at the carved jack-o-lanterns

arranged on neighbors’ porches

amid dried stalks of corn

election signs

and the glow of lights from windows

within the houses you pass?

What will you be for Halloween,

walker upon this earth

dim so dim I cannot see you

in the dusk of early sunset?

What will you be for Halloween

as the treaters scamper and laugh

from door to door

as the bags of candy

accumulate as in years before

as the costumes trip and obscure,

what will you be?

What will you be for Halloween?

I think this year I will be

happy.

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Rain.

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Rain

as in English novels

on moors, on cobblestones,

soaking and unyielding,

a character more

than a consideration,

calling to mind

black-and-white movies

and trench coats

collars up

umbrellas

pushed into service

dashing

leaping, tiptoeing

all hesitance

puddles aside

drops running down windows

chasing each other

down

pour

unrelenting

sound amid fury

whoosh of wheels

ink of streets

all

dark

all

symbiotic in saturation

obscuring

faces so

the best thing

is

you cannot see

her tears.

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Life’s seasons: Fall

.

The air is crisp

the leaves are fire

tread amidst

their cumulative insistence

and desire

I feel

I pray

I hope

someday

my Spring my Autumn

and summerlight

all come together

before Winter’s night.

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Trees like me… a poem of quirks.

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i pick up the heart-shaped stones

in my path

and hold them tight

as reminders of

the pain of love.

most nourishment is

raw

because it suits me,

it is how i feel inside

don’t be alarmed

i am gentle

i may stop while en route

and watch the sky

its

artwork on high,

or tree bark

for some reason

i have a thing for trees

maybe because

they are alive and beautiful but

stoic

strong

a paradox

they dance in the breeze

whoosh of leaves and

patches of light

yet with ice they freeze

with cold they

wait for the next season,

like me.

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