Window on the World

People in the pool are sharing their joy with me,
Even though I know that they can't see me.
A little girl paddling with her floaties on
While grandma visits with the mama and baby son.

Squeals of delight float up to fill our world with life
We have no responsibility for this pure delight.
It is nice to be a voyeur through our window on the world
And have no part in the play of this little boy and girl.

For them to feel our presence would change the way they feel,
Somehow changing their relationship; it would be less real.
When my granddaughters visited, we found an empty pool,
So that we, with complete abandon, could act like fools.

Family units all have their own ways to relate;
Being able to anonymously watch them is great.
I can learn about behaviors that work for others,
Giving me insights on fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers.

Sharing Air

Yesterday brought powerful storms
With wind, rain and lightening bolts.
It also brought my daughter and her daughters
To share with me their happiness and hopes.

Today, we have simmering, sailing seas,
With cumulus clouds promising rain.
But for now the energy is in the wind
With which the swollen sails strain.

The seagulls soar on a highway
Of cross currents we cannot see,
Celebrating their lifestyles
Where everything is truly free.

It seems that there's a symmetry
Between the seabirds and the boats
One is sailing on thewind
The other captures wind to float.

It is all part of the same cycle
Of water, wind and air
That fuels all life upon the earth
That we are so blessed to share.

Superb Sailing

Super sailing, but not on the sea,
At the marina where the winds blow free.
Young sailors learning on small sunfish;
Competition for attention is still stiff.

Orange, red, blue, yellow, but mostly white,
Sails, like water wings in flight.
Tacking as the tell-tales blow,
Close to keeling, for the show.

What it must be like to be young,
And dream of waters farther flung,
As they set out under the watchful gaze
Of those offering the wisdom of their ways.

Salty Stories

Who needs wind chimes when sailboat rigging,
All day and all night, is merrily jigging?
Palest pink oleanders in full bloom:
An absolute assurance that summer's coming soon.

The scent of suntan lotion wafting up to me,
From the poolside bathing beauties that we can see.
Magenta crepe myrtles are dancing in the breeze
Oblivious to peeling skins and their knobby knees.

Seagulls soaring splendidly, looking for a free meal,
Whether food that is offered, or morsels that they steal.
Mothers tucking children into car seats for a ride;
I don't know how the heated air, their little bodies survive.

How is it that a young mother, so beautiful and strong
Can stand near her children smoking, knowing that it's wrong?
There are so many varied stories carried on the winds,
The salty stories of those who could be foes or friends.

Sacred Sundays

Our Sundays are sacred for friends and family;
They can drop by our house from wherever they may be.
We'll have a meal ready, in case they're hungry.

We hope to experience a lot of life and love,
In our little condo situated above
A pool and patio we don't have to take care of.

We can spend our time playing with all the kids,
Like we, in our younger days, often did.
This seems like a lifestyle most splendid.

We have games and books, but not many toys
That would appeal to most young girls and boys;
But this shouldn't prevent a joyful noise.

I am excited by the promised prospect
That we will, once more, have opportunity to inject
Our lives into those we've committed to protect.

So, come one and all to our home on the lake.
You can see our place from the interstate
If we know you're coming, we'll bake a cake.

Far From the Tree

"That apple didn't fall far from the tree,"
Can often be said of you and of me.
Still, some seeds are blown by the wind,
Or planted on purpose by adventurous friends.
But, some soils are simply not the right mix;
Only moving the plants will weaknesses fix.

We thought this was so when our home blew away,
And we thought we'd forever far from this field stay.
But our tree is all grown and has planted new seeds;
So many saplings seek our support in addressing their needs.
We have returned to the orchard where our tree began,
Hoping this is the proper progression in our life plan.

Wise Words

In many ways it would be easier to stay hidden away
Here, there are many who haven't seen my mistakes along the way.
Whatever I present to them is who they believe I am;
They have no history with which to derail my future plans.

While it is quite tempting to start all over again;
The problems from which I run often multiply as they remain.
We are told that our mistakes can live on through four generations;
Is individual restitution what will bring peace to our nation?

I am willing to do my part to bring about community peace;
I believe this requires respect for even the very least.
Each one of us has something important to contribute;
Nothing in our own experience should be treated as absolute.

Even our images of The Almighty have been seen in many guises;
Why are some treated as sacred, and others our family despises?
I love to look for common ground, whether in beliefs or relationships;
Only when we find this will wise words come from our communal lips.