Archives for December 2014

May It Be Filled With…

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Happy New Year

Love
Happiness
Joy
Passion

May you be
inspired
creative
free

May you be fearless

May you be
inspired
creative
free

May you be fearless

May you reach beyond
your wildest dreams

May it be easy
delightful
delicious

May you receive
all that you’ve wished for
and even more
…as if by magic

May you be silly
goofy
and laugh a lot

May you love
and be loved
a lot

May you feel into yourself
listen to your heart–
know

May you have fun
lots and lots
and lots
of fun

May you be surrounded
by those that inspire
that respect you
love you
that support you —
lift you up

May you burst at the seams
with joy
because you’ve received all that you desire
and more
because you know
because you see
because you are grateful

May you have a Happy New Year
Celebrate well
and
Love.

Write On,

Happy Holidays

happy new year 1It’s a crazy wonderful whirlwind a winter wonderland of love glitter and sugar, bubble highs, family gatherings around the sound of the Grinch Julie Andrews Ebenezer Jimmy Stewart Charlie Brown – it’s a Christmas Story in front of fires in living rooms across the country while friends clink-a-tink glasses and over look there red velvet bows with whiskers on kittens and bells that jingle and candles lit with magic as we go dashing through the snow rain and sleet and store after store planning parties, writing lists and checking them off twice or even thrice, chocolate trees, silver bells, big gold balls, blue satin sashes, green, silver, red bows and tinsel and lights that flash on and off and on and off and twinkle candy cane’s, popcorn strung trees, reindeer and the modes Christmas penguin, caroling elves, snowflakes and rain drops and I forgot my umbrella, secret Santa’s ring-a-ding-dong on every corner, miracles burn bright for eight crazy nights   as we wrap and tie and decorate and figure and choose which little black dress, red sequin gown, three piece tux black tie affair to attend. You better watch out, you better not blink or that guy will cut you off in traffic and you’ll miss the light and the sale and someone will buy Oprah’s favorite things right out from under you.

 
It’s crazy
It’s wonderful
It’s the season

we circle around and around and around and our feet just might not even touch the ground.
 
It’s okay. It’s all good.

If I get harried and nutscelebration crop
I drop into my body
I take a moment
take a breath
take another
I want to stay whole during these holy days
stay centered
stay with myself
because
It is a magical time
lights twinkle on dark nights
we see friends and family we haven’t seen for a while
we celebrate love and family and life and miracles 

I dive into my journal

It’s not the only way to get centered, but it sure does work for me. I like to spin.
I like to take a walk at the beach.
I like to visit my yoga mat, a little downward facing dog and cat-cow, peaceful warrior one, two and three.
I’ll turn on a carol in the car and I’ll sing-sing-a-ling.
I like to unwind with Bill, cook a meal, sit down and eat it with cloth napkins and conversation. (And then there’s always a bit of bubbly, a little love’n and chocolate! )

 
It’s the time to dive into it all–the hustle and flow and the magic and miracles and all the wishes and desires.

Just as long as I don’t forget to dive into myself!
 
I’m taking this moment to make a wish.
Here’s to a wonderful and wild and colorful and bright bushy-tailed winter wonderland
here’s to magic and miracles
to peace on Earth
to true good will toward human kind.

Here’s to loving kindness
Here’s to loving each other
Here’s to love

Here’s to giving presents
and staying present as we give!

Here’s to you!

Cheers!
 
Write on,
Happy Holidays.

Write on,

carolyn first only sig

 

 

Watched Pot

la rain

a rainy LA day

 

Last night after we made love Bill went outside to wait for the rain.

He stood on the flagstone patio,
hands in the pockets of his white terry robe,
watching the oncoming storm hover in the distance.

She was moving in her own time.

I opened the back door and leaned outside,
“A watched pot never boils.” I said.
But I knew, if watched long enough, it would boil.
Bill stood patient, planted, like a tree
whose roots are thirsty for wet.
“I felt a drop,” he said.

This morning the house is quiet,
except for the sounds of sleep and wind and rain.
Until I turn on the news–
pictures of splintered trees,
pictures of floating cars, flooded and stuck in muck,
pictures of sand bags and empty beaches and businesses shut down,
a flash of yellow earthmover slogging through mud
and inevitably dramatic coverage of a swift water rescue
from the quick rising LA River.

Later, I’ll dress for weather.
New winter boots
water resistant, lined with fur.
Ultramarine raincoat
that matches nothing.
I’ll walk, head down, to the car,
open the trunk and dig for the umbrella.

 

 

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It seemed like a good day to share this poem I wrote last year.
This was published in The Los Angeles Review of Los Angeles in the June 2014 edition.