The Earth; covering my hands.
My soul is harvesting joy.
Working hard. Sweat is the prize.
The wildflowers are rejoicing in the background.
God’s presence is shining upon me with
each ray of the Sun.
The garden has cultivated peace within.
The End of the Highway
He traveled far to my door
His heart was swallowed gently by mine
He crafted memories out of paper and food
My roots were replanted on uncharted land
He was the end of my highway
Dreariness slowly melts with the dawning sun
I hear her gentle call as
She beckons me to her plumule
I stand quietly near her
Hoping to glance just one moment of growth
Patience is her subdued message
The Inkling of Morning
I woke up early, just before the sun rose. Silence greeted me with her dark smile. The floor gently growled beneath my feet. My destination was nearing. Words gathered in heart. Inspiration was my oration. The audience of one reflects in the hallway mirror.
An amusing smile spreads across her face. Anticipation. Rouge painted on her cheeks. A shadow of her lipstick pressed on the virgin tissue. The table is set. She waits.
She Entertains; yet, the guests never arrive.
Home is a state of being; usually involving a road trip, with coffee in hand. Nevertheless, there are times when our heart just needs to hit the pavement and go. My Indiana roots have been calling to that still place within my spirit. With the milieu, of my community changing, the ache for Indiana returned to my heart. My short road trip consisted of 490 miles from my current location in Iowa, to my hometown of Fort Wayne, Indiana.
Majority of my family members continue to reside in Indiana. Every time, I arrive in Fort Wayne, I am greeted by parade of relatives. By family, I mean cousins, aunts, uncles, parents, siblings, and at times, even their pets show up. When I moved away from my clan; I felt a lot of sadness. While, I enjoyed being in Iowa, with my husband; I still missed the closeness of the family. There is an overwhelming joy that fills my soul, when I see these people. The kids fight to sit next to me, at the table. There are countless invitations for dinner, parties, coffee, etc.
Joy radiates from my spirit, during these times; however, humility reiterates its presence by reminding me that I could never repay these people for their endless kindness and love. Reflecting on my life experiences usually fill my long drives back to Iowa. During this particular return trip, I began to ponder the impact my affectionate family had on me. A theme that emerged was my family’s ability to laugh and love each other throughout all of life’s hardships. These moments carry me through the darkest of days.
To summarize my short little road trip back home; the band, Third Eye Blind, has a lyric from their song, Deep Inside of You: “I’d walk with my own people if I could find them.” I found my people. My people are my family and I am thankful to have found them.
Traveling to Zion National Park gave me an opportunity to appreciate the beauty within the natural world.
“Love her, but leave her wild.” -Atticus, To Kill a Mockingbird
There is a fire deep within my Mid-Western soul that longs for the beauty of Earth’s mystifying elevations. Having stood looking up at a myriad of mountain tops, canyons, and cliffs, throughout various trips, during my life; I am reminded of the significance these stone monuments have played in my journey.
During my early twenties, I participated in a project trip to Ecuador. This was my first experience in seeing the Andes Mountains. Never will I forget the impact those looming mountains had on my inner being. The stillness of each curved rock as it created a barrier between earth and sky still remain fresh in my mind. The insignificance I felt, standing before these great thrones. I remembering contemplating my hopes, dreams, and fears in those moments. The mountains have always been intrinsic to my spiritual being.
Fast forward to my late twenties, the unforgettable days of being in Utah’s Zion National Park. The sun was slightly hidden beneath the Navajo Sandstone that make up the stone features of Zion Canyon. A canyon created from the flow of the Virgin River; the river’s flow continues to frolic beneath its carved creation. My journal was in hand diligently writing the soft words of my soul, seeking to preserve my keen memories of those days. God’s presence was known to me in that canyon.
I knew peace in those days. Lush green landscapes beneath the colors of goldenrod kept within Zion’s kingly rocks. A calmness that can only be prescribed by the natural world. A natural world only created by a higher power. Like all trips, it ended. I prepared to return to my daily routine of being ruled by clocks and bills. I vowed silently before the Zion throne to return again.
Many years have passed since those days in Zion National Park. My heart still yearning for one more adventure in Utah’s recreational sanctuary.
Go visit the wondrous scenery of Utah’s Zion National Park!
“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.” – Saint Augustine