• flowers,  gratitude,  Plants,  poems,  poetry

    The Gift of Knowing You

    Blue Flax along the Poudre River

    I read of a man who stood to speak
    At the funeral of a friend
    He referred to the dates on the tombstone
    From the beginning…to the end

    He noted that first came the date of birth
    And spoke the following date with tears,
    But he said what mattered most of all
    Was the dash between those years

    For that dash represents all the time
    That they spent alive on earth.
    And now only those who loved them
    Know what that little line is worth

    For it matters not, how much we own,
    The cars…the house…the cash.
    What matters is how we live and love
    And how we spend our dash.

    So, think about this long and hard.
    Are there things you’d like to change?
    For you never know how much time is left
    That can still be rearranged.

    If we could just slow down enough
    To consider what’s true and real
    And always try to understand
    The way other people feel.

    And be less quick to anger
    And show appreciation more
    And love the people in our lives
    Like we’ve never loved before.

    If we treat each other with respect
    And more often wear a smile,
    Remembering this special dash
    Might only last a little while

    So, when your eulogy is being read
    With your life’s actions to rehash…
    Would you be proud of the things they say
    About how you spent YOUR dash?

    The Dash Poem (By Linda Ellis)

    This poem was read at the Celebration of Life yesterday for our friend and loved one, Antonella (Toni). The poem does call us to think about how we want to live out all of our years in between those two significant dates of birth and death. I remember her smile, that grin which sometimes had that mischievous look. I am grateful to have received the gift of knowing you. You will be missed, my friend! 😢

    Here is a link to a recording of the author reading the poem.

  • Plants,  poems,  writing/reading

    Sometimes You Hear a Voice

    Blue Flax

    Sometimes you hear a voice
    through the door calling you.
    as fish out of water
    hear the waves,
    or a hunting falcon
    hears the drums
    Come back. Come back.

    This turning toward
    what you deeply love saves you.
    Read the book of your life,
    which has been given you.
    A voice comes to your soul saying,
    Lift your foot. Cross over.

    Move into emptiness
    of question and answer and question.

    Rumi
  • flowers,  natural areas,  Plants

    Maybe Tomorrow

    Blue Flax from the Pineridge Natural Area this morning

    Another early morning at the Pineridge Natural Area with coffee and journal. It is always a great way for me to start my day. My topic of interest in my journaling was my tendency for sloth in several areas of my life. Thought I better post something before I forget how or put it off any longer. May need to post a blog on this and get your feedback. But not now, maybe tomorrow.

    After time at the nature area I met my youngest daughter for breakfast, my first time to sit down and eat in a restaurant. They only allowed us to use every other table and we could take our mask off to eat, which was convenient. Now on my porch to write this post while being annoyed by a rather loud leaf blower. Can you tell I’m beginning to hate them! Anyway, have a great weekend.