Wildflowers Lori

Light is shining through the front windows casting slatted shadows on the hardwood floor.  Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgeralds’ voices are filling the air of this cute space I rented for a short time.  Frida Kahlo is staring at me with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  She is probably wondering what I am going to do with the next five days off, praying I am not just another boring guest in this home.  I filled the front of the house with bushy beautiful bouquets of flowers to make this place feel a little more soft and homey while I am here.  Momma Earth is coming out of hibernation and her gift of a renewed earth every spring is the loveliest time of the year.

I am sitting at the bottom of a hill that is filled with so much history.  Normally the streets are filled with people darting in and out of shops and cafes.  But during this pandemic most are holed up in their homes making the best of it and hopefully becoming inspired by free time and imagination.

Morning Poem by Mary Oliver

Every morning 

the world

is created.

Under the orange

 

sticks of the sun

the heaped

ashes of the night

turn into leaves again

 

and fasten themselves to the high branches –

and the ponds appear

like black cloth

on which are painted islands

 

of summer lilies.

If it is your nature 

to be happy

you will swim away along the soft trails

 

for hours, your imagination

alighting everywhere.

And if your spirit

carries in it

 

the thorn

that is heavier than lead –

if it’s all you can do

 to keep on trudging    –

 

there is still

somewhere deep within you

a beast shouting that the earth

is exactly what it wanted –

 

each pond with its blazing lilies

is a prayer heard and answered

lavishly,

every morning,

 

whether or not

you have ever dared to be happy,

whether or not

you have ever dared to pray.

 

 

~Much love and health,

Lori

“Give what you have.  To someone, it may be better than you dare to think.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow