If Memory Serves Me
 
If memory serves me,
How lucky I'll be,
If that wonderful waiter
Brings laughter  to me;
I don't mind repeats,
Let me taste them again;
The heart warming moments,
The faces of friends;
When he comes to the table
Of my grateful mind,
Tactfully leaving
Sad choices behind,
My heart will make sure
That I've gratefully left
A tip for the server,
A nod to the Chef,
And a take-away box
For the smiles that are left–
Yes, I'll have to admit
That the banquet was great,
The service outstanding,
Even though I still wait
For my cell phone and keys
To appear on my plate!
 

 

Some memories are kept in a secure car on life's train; others are just passing through.  As we shuffle the cars, let's always be the smiling conductor!

The Memory Station

If I forget to tell you
What it is I just forgot,
Please don't think
That I don't care,
Or that my memory's shot;
My thoughts are simply racing
Around a busy track,
And may have missed
A stop or two,
Or have fallen
Through a crack,
But not to worry,
I'll keep pulling
Memories from  my pack
Till what it was
That I forgot,
Remembers to come back!

At this time of year, I always love watching the maple trees coming into bud and bloom; they were always a favourite flower that I'd bring home for mom on my way home from school.  She was so gracious to greet my offerings with enthusiasm and find jars to display these wondrous flowers! Next would be dandelions and clover and wild roses.   ' Crimson and clover' just popped into my head - loved that song!  It came out in 1981 when I was the young mother of three.  Ah, memories of chasing the three of them across our lawn, trying to coax them into clothing of various sorts, or into just wearing something!  Those precious moments, though they were busy ones, went by way too fast.  I tried to capture one of my own early memories in this little poem; I hope it stirs some of your own warm memories and adds to your garden of smiles:

Mom's Garden 

Before I learned
To read or write,
I'd bring her flowers
I thought she'd like;
Some pansies from
Her garden bright,
Or a blossom from our tree;

 

I'd find such wonders
On my way,
And I was sure
That she would say,
How beautiful! and never mind
A few holes in her garden,
Here and there;
 
She seemed to know
The joy I felt,
And knew just how my
Heart would melt,

To see her smile
Then hug me tight,
And plant a kiss,
In pure delight!
 
The fanciest flowers
Could not compare
To the seeds of joy
That she planted there;
Her garden of kindness
I'll tend with care,
And water it daily
With laughter and prayer.

 

A Litter Lament 

Down in the laneway,

A ruckus arose,

A cackling and cawing,

A quarrel of crows,

Pushing and pulling

With feathers a-flap

Till the tie on the bag gave way with a snap!

Then, a squawk and a squabble,

Over what they would gobble,

Or some silly bauble

That someone discarded

Its worth unregarded

They would bring to their nest,

With all of the rest

Of the treasures they dug

With each hopeful tug;

 

Litterbird, Litterbird, fly away home,

Stop spoiling my work,

Leave my garbage alone!

Every two-winged, two-legged,

Four legged critter,

It just takes one thought

To decide not to litter;

Let's stop all the squabbling

That tears us apart,

Pick up our litter,

And polish our hearts.

 

The Wave

Twice today, I have been the grateful recipient of a friendly wave; at least that is what I assumed the fellow in the passing truck, and the lady walking her dog coming towards me down the street were going to do. I was pretty sure that I knew each of them until they came within range and I realized that my enthusiastic waving was being met with questioning stares.  No matter, I gave the wave a huge smile follow up and I felt better as their smiles grew and they hesitantly returned the wave.  I may not have known them at all, but I figure that it was better to wave in error than to let fear of making a mistake spoil those special moments.

There is nothing wrong with saying hello to a stranger on the street or offering them a wave, and certainly a smile; it may be the only bit of warmth that he or she receives on that particular day, or possibly for many days.  It certainly picked up my own mood and jolted me out of self absorption that was not nearly as interesting; if we can't laugh at ourselves on a regular basis, then we become dull very quickly—best to sharpen up those smile muscles, smooth out our wrinkles, and join the wave! 

I raised my hand

And held it high,

In  a friendly wave

As a lad walked by;

A friendly wave,

How brave, how brave!

 

Strangers, yes,

But his eyes met mine,

A little bit shy,

But with hopeful shine,

He tossed a smile;

What class, what style!

 

With every wave,

To someone new,

My steps were lifted,

My spirit grew;

My wave had power

An awesome tool,

How cool, how cool!

 

 This is a humorous look at our dependence on technology, and how sometimes we all need to take a break before we plug in again!

Plug Me In!

 

"I'm dying! I'm dying!"

My poor cell phone cried,

But I paid it no heed

As I headed outside;

The garden was quiet,

Time flew along,

The birds in the trees

Held me rapt with their song;

Back in the house,

No pings could be heard,

No greeting from Siri,

Not a single ring stirred;

"I can't understand

This new state of mind;

It's just so unlike her

To leave me behind,"

One last desperate try;

To the birds looking in,

"I really don't mean

To intrude on your din,

Tell her all is forgiven,

But time's running thin;

Please tweet her my message—

Please, please, plug me in!"

 Kindness is essential in the healing of our world.

The Quality of Kindness

 

The quality of mercy is not strained.

It droppeth as the gentle rain from Heaven

Upon the place beneath.

It is twice blest:

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

                        ..... William Shakespeare

 

The quality of kindness

Is the most precious of our treasures;

The humblest, yet most courageous;

From eye to eye it beckons—

Look long and deeply into mine,

We are one, you and I,

In our pain and in our joy;

In my yearning to find hope,

Am I misunderstood?

Have I misunderstood you?

We are all brought to tears,

By the touch of a kind word or act,

That drops like healing rain

Upon the wounds that we carry;

Let us hope that our eyes

Fully opened,

Will look deeply into the beauty,

In the eyes of our brothers,

And encourage

The quality of kindness that waits there.

Getting lost has always been one of my fears (often playing a central theme in my dreams) and one that a lot of us I'm sure, share; whether it's trying to find a new destination, or trying to manoeuvre my way through a computer challenge!  Perhaps turning it off and on again might work for both scenarios?

Back in the day, when driving the kids to an appointment or event downtown, the kids always waited for me to say, "I think Uncle Bernie lives around here somewhere," and they would know that we were lost, once again—not seriously, but annoyingly, until I got my bearings back. Whether in the midst of downtown chaos, a leisurely stroll, or just arriving at the top of our stairs, with no particular goal springing to mind, I find that just letting go and laughing will sometimes kick-start my GPS—"Oh, really?!!" my poor knees are saying, "we all know that the poor chicken only crossed the road cause Alexa told her to!"

 

Climbing The Stairs

When I'm losing my bearings,
Forgetting my way,
When my mind gets too busy,
I hear a voice say,
'Take a look round you,
Don't miss what's right there,
There is always a light
At the top of the stairs,'
 
When I've climbed to the top,
And I stand there at last,
I'm sure I'll remember,
When my panting has passed,
What it was that I came for,
It should soon crystallize;
I'm hoping that, surely,
It's not exercise?!
 
Looking out of the window,
I had to concede,
That a change in perspective,
Filled a much deeper need,
A wider horizon,
The tops of the trees,
The sky in its glory,
Was a tonic indeed;
I shall drink it more often,
And let my heart lead.
The next time I'm climbing the stairs.
 

 

Ode To My Refrigerator!

O wondrous white container,

That keeps my veggies fresh,

I've come to pick out something,

But I really must confess

That I haven't got the foggiest

Idea why I came;

While you stand, wide open, patiently,

I must accept the blame;

You know that I'll remember,

After I've closed your door,

I only have to leave the room,

We've been through this before;

As I head across the living room,

I hear you call me back,

"Perhaps you'd like to take your phone?

You've left it on my rack!"

 

I used to have a music box

That played a sunny tune,

Oh, how it used to cheer me up

When scary faces crossed the moon!

When the many scary faces of fear and its angry, unpleasant relatives try to bully their way across my hopeful moon, I try to remember the power of the music box!

I love music boxes, wind chimes, bells, and bird songs—anything that causes the air to vibrate with a bright hopeful sound. That's a love that I've carried with me from childhood, when staying over at Grandma's house provided some wonderful tinkling memories. I've written and posted a poem (attached above) about one of my wonderful Grandma memories that still lives in a special bright spot in my heart.

The key to the music box is never far from our reach; we are given a chance to unleash  hopeful notes each time that we direct a kind thought towards someone. That first note of kindness is all that is needed for a host of smiling vibrations to set out on their journey to the moon and back - How good is that!

By collecting bells of all sizes and materials, I've tried to keep those memories alive. At family get-togethers here, it is a treat and a scramble for the kids to grab one of the bells and call us in to dinner!  I've made a point of passing on some of my tinklers to the grandkids; hopefully, they will feel the love that goes with the bells and surrounds them each time that they ring out their gleeful notes (perhaps sometimes a little loudly!)

Here's a poem that I wrote about a warm tinkling memory from my childhood:

Grandma's Music Box

Up on tiptoe, hands outstretched,

My fingers found the key,

Once,

Then twice,

A final twist—

And the music was set free!

 

I held my ear up close to hear

the magic that came out,

So happy was each tiny note

That gaily jumped about;

 

Then, I quickly scrambled into bed

When Grandma climbed the stairs,

And lay there with the covers up,

All set to say my prayers;

 

I loved the smell

Of Grandma's hair

As she hugged me into bed,

And just before we went to sleep,

I turned to her and said,

 

"Thank you Grandma, you're the best,

You are so good to me;

Do you think, perhaps,

Just one more time,

You could turn the music key?"

 

Grandma's hands

Reached for the key,

The song leaped to her hand,

Once more she was a little girl,

The leader of her band;

 

She kissed my cheek

And gave a wink,

As she smiled at my delight;

She closed her eyes

Till the music stopped,

And then,

Turned out the light.

 

"I remember everything" - John Prine

I may not remember everything,

But, I still enjoy some good 'time travel' moments, especially on gray days:

Ah, memory, my elusive friend; where have you skipped off to—

Are you back in a tiny home,

By a riverfront, alive with life,

Where excitement tapped on your window,

And brought you an invitation

To a day filled with possibilities?

 

Are you visiting with dad,

On a sparkling Winter morning,

Watching him don his awesome speed skates,

Then heading out to fly!

Our own Hans Brinker,

Taking a break from

Supporting his family;

The sun greeting him,

The cold breeze bringing  tears to his eyes;

With fresh snow falling around him,

A sense of freedom warming his heart,

Across the ice he speeds,

Keeping  a rhythmic pace,

Left arm tucked behind his back,

A huge smile lighting up his face!

 

Watching as that feeling of peace overtakes him,

Are you too, flying along

Over the ice-covered river?

Have you noticed that you are not alone—

That a little child has been following you,

Trying to catch up,

Moving closer, with every magical stride,

Tapping you on the shoulder,

Inviting you to reach your arm back,

To take his hand—

Your inner child

Only waits for you to

drop your heavy shoes,

don your skates,

To join him, and to fly!

 

A memory gives us a chance to time travel!  How do you make a memory—a happening that touches the soul and stays?  We all have hurtful images from the past that can hang on and hold our hearts captive, robbing us of our potential to create joy, but warm memories, the best ones, happen when we are taken by surprise; they are able to stir a huge heartfelt laugh, or maybe a tear.  Memories grow stronger and more precious when they are shared—let's get busy and start building that time machine, with the cogs of our honest, humble foibles and in the beautiful gifts that lie within each of us.

                                                Love forgave, kindness smiled, and hope grew a precious memory.

 

The Gift

 

There are gifts that we give

To the ones that we love

That leave rare and indelible marks;

Little glimpses of something

That words can't explain,

Scripted in thoughts

That weave their refrain,

Playing time and again in our hearts;

 

There are moments we touch,

Without touching at all,

When we meet in our memory room;

When a smile meets a smile,

There is healing that happens;

We're reminded that hope

Lies within every challenge,

Within every gift still to come;

 

There are beautiful treasures

To gather and share,

Memories to make every day;

As we clear a place for them,

Let their roots grow,

Their buds are just waiting

For someone to say,

"Can your happy memories come out and play?"

 

 

Be Kind

I rose from sleep,

And there it came,

To stop my breath

To squelch my flame,

"You are unworthy,

Yours the blame,

You cannot hope

To win life's game"

But, deep inside,

I heard the words,

Encouraging,

"Be kind, Be kind"

 

How hard it is

To seek and find    

The path that leads

To peace of mind;

To heed the voice

That climbs the slope,

Carrying the seeds of hope,

To light our path,

 to conquer doubt,

The way is clear,

Its voice rings out,

"Be kind, be kind",

 

Pride will entice,

And ego take,

Crushing spirits

In their wake;

Their heavy shoes

Will weigh us down,

Direct our gaze

Inward and down;

Love stops cold

That toxic wheel; 

Walk together

And we'll heal,

Arm in arm,

In kindness, building hope;

 

Be humble in our giving,

Humble in receiving,

Take pride in our gratitude,

Take pride in each kindness,

Take pride in every act of respect,

Take pride in acknowledging

That we are all children of the same family,

Sharing the playground together.

 

A Humble, Silent Prayer, and a Sincere Smile -

The most powerful forms of communication

When we drop to our knees
And let it all go,
Open our hearts
And let the tears flow,
Deep in our souls,
Someone listens and knows;
 
Prayer is like a rescue ship,
A boat that's waiting, moored;
When fears are overwhelming,
 When those I love are threatened,
 In quiet desperation,
I take a step aboard;
 
My Companion bids me welcome
As He reaches out His hand;
He tells me He has heard my plea,
And that He understands;
There are miracles in progress,
Things we cannot know,
But when we call out from our hearts,
There's no way that He'd say, 'no';
 
When we make the choice to push off
From our comfortable, safe shore,
When we risk being surrounded
By fears we can't ignore,
By dark waters of rejection,
Of doubts that make us question,
He reminds us that we're gifted
With a life preserving smile;
 
That when tossed with firm resolve,
To lift another from despair,
Becomes the echo of His answer,
The hope that follows prayer;
For the giver and receiver,
Both are pulled into His craft,
To rest until the waters calm,
Until the storm is past;
 
No smile left behind.

 

 

 

    A Song Of Hope

 

Whenever sadness settles in,

nettles in,

meddles in,

The song that I am coaxing

From the recess of my heart,

I give my smile a hefty spin,

A swing, a lift, and then, a grin

Breaks out and like a little bird

Soars into the sunlight, to where its song will start;

 

It tells me there is light out there,

Joy out there,   

Hope out there,

Out past the melancholy -

The lazy spirit's haunt,

I'll free my feet and drop those shoes,

The past is past, the future new,

I still have things to say and do;

Life is so much more;

 

Every moment's promise is

A chance for us,

To build and thus,

To add to God's creation,

The gifts we have to share;

Let our words express our very best,

Thoughtful works of art;

An instrument as yet unstrung,

A song of hope as yet unsung,

Waits to add its colour

To the canvass of the heart.

Light, Love, and Shadows

'Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you.' - Maori proverb

Where do we look when the light is obscured,

And the shadows seem to have broken their bonds,

When we feel that hope is a distant dream,

And the love within

Is drowned in the din

Of our soul crying out 

For a road past our doubt,

Where surely, there must be a happy beyond;

Those shadows fall back when we turn towards the light,

For darkness cannot intrude into love,

Though it looms so large at end of the day,

And though it may try

To foster the lie

That it is much stronger,

That it will last longer;

 Love always chases the darkness away;

To ebb or grow brighter is our choice to make;

As we open the portals of our eyes and smiles,

And send our love flying in 'heartbeams' of light,

Our search comes full circle,

We need look no further,

The prayers of the humble,

Cause darkness to crumble,

We are masters of shadows; they cower in fright.

You know that isolation is getting to you when you start looking at mice as kindred spirits!

As I was meditating my way through some Tai Chi movements this morning, I happened to notice a mousetrap set in the corner of the room, and my mind suddenly headed off on a nostalgia trip.   It took me back to some of my early artistic endeavours; children's pictures that included  some of these wee folk dressed up in quaint costumes; happy little pictures, of happy little creatures, in happy little settings.

In this time of isolation, when our individual personal environments are drastically reduced, when our tactile interaction with those we love is interrupted,  I am reminded that we all share a larger family home:  Nature waits, with its arms wide open, to welcome our long-overdue attention and appreciation, and to give back happiness in return - we need look no further than the small, simple things.

  A Mousey Meditation!

As I sat, meditating,

And searching for light,

An ominous mouse trap

Came into my sight;

Off in a corner,

Of my humble house,

Sitting there, waiting

For some little mouse

To come, uninvited,

And fall for the trap;

I winced as I thought of him

Caught with a snap!

Perhaps that wee creature

Was watching me too,

Waiting nearby,

And seeing right through

My frustrated efforts,

As I tried too hard

To find life's deep meaning;

He'd catch me off guard;

Keeping it simple,

He'd gobble the cheese,

And leave with a 'thank you!'

As bold as you please,

Wishing me luck,

As I seemed to be stuck,

Caught in my own mousetrap! 

  Keep it simple -  gobble the love, leave pride in the trap!

I Can't Breathe  

With recent fearful events unfolding around the world, and in particular with the focus on systemic racism that was brought to light so vividly and terribly in Minneapolis this past week, I borrowed the phrase spoken by George Floyd as he died;

I Can't Breathe!

Watching cruelty unfold,

The attack on our soul,

The sliding of hope,

Down a dangerous slope,

We are better than that - aren't we?

I felt the suffocation,

I can't breathe!

The bully and bullied,

Two victims collide,

Coloured by two worlds,

While we stand and chide,

Do we consider ourselves a threat to others?

That's where fear does its best work,

I can't breathe!

Feeling fear taking hold,

Tightening its grip,

Waiting for hope

To falter and slip;

In the grip of depression,

I thrashed in the dark;

I can't breathe!

Afraid of our fellow man,

Afraid for our health,

Afraid for what might come,

The loss of our wealth,

When did  we welcome fear,

Ask it to reign,

I asked my inner child, "How did we get here?”

With a heavy sigh, she cried,

I can't breathe!

Then I felt a tug from my memory,

A tiny child in colours bright,

Reaching up to hold my hand,

No sign of anger or of fright,

Just love in all its innocence,

She poured her joy into my soul,

And took my breath away;

I can't breathe!

Isolation Blues!

Isolation Blues!

These days, we're all singing the Isolation blues in our own unique ways; some of us are feeling very out of tune and trying hard to reach those positive high notes;  For some of us, we are finding the verses getting annoyingly repetitious!

Please forgive the musical irony - It comes after listening to the many wonderful concerts, at so many levels that are being generously offered by musicians, artists and athletes, both locally and around the world to raise money to help our fellow countrymen during this time of crisis.

All of us want to contribute whatever talents we have, to express our love and thanks to all of the front line workers putting themselves at risk every day, and to help the less fortunate.   Giving back in whatever way we can,  particularly the act of sacrificing closeness with our family and friends, makes us all part of this wonderful 'Team Canada'.   

As I was breathing deeply, and letting go of the stress for awhile, I wrote a simple little poem that expresses a desire for peaceful happy times.  It also encompasses gratitude for the silver lining in all of this down time - a chance to really look and listen to each other, to our children and grandchildren, and to appreciate the really important elements of life.

What if?

What if there was no war to fear,

No hurtful words

To wound the ear,

No vain attempt

To have it all,

No selfish smirks

When others fall;

What if we gathered smiles and flowers,

If loving acts

Were our super powers;

If we rose each day

In gratitude,

Spreading smiles

In happy mood;

If we, like children, saw the world,

One tiny wonder

At a time,

With curiosity

Unfurled,

Each challenge,

But a tree to climb;

What if we saw our work as play,

And laughed,

As little children do;

While giving love

In simple ways,

Needing just to hear,

 "Me too!"

Then, let us lay our troubles down,

And take some time,

Be still awhile,

Take our cue

From little ones,

Paint rainbows,

And share a smile!