BrokenEchoes

  Opening Reflection: June has arrived with its heavy green and its sudden rains. The air feels thicker, like it’s full of stories still half-formed. Some days I feel suspended between seasons. While remembering the promise of spring, I am bracing for summer’s heat.  Writing Update: I’ve spent much of this past week revisiting older work, not to revise it, but to reflect on it. One poem in particular came to mind after a recent conversation with my wife about small joys: the first blooms of the season, the reappearance of the birds in the yard, or how the light changes across the lake. Spotlight Poem: “Early Spring” Read it here: Early Spring (March 2022) This poem was inspired by a walk my wife and I took through Paintsville Lake State Park. It was still winter, but there were signs of an early spring The trail was still wearing winter’s grey and there was a cold breath of wind off the water. But in the middle of all that stillness, she saw them: the first wildflowers o...

  I keep happy memories of you They are with me always Folded small, and nestled together In an envelope in my hip pocket It comforts me to have them To know they are within reach When days are rough and I feel low Touching the envelope reminds me Of joyful remembrances I have  Won’t it be nice when joy finds me again Other days require more I empty the paper container Spread and unfold my remnants of you I sit with them, spend time with them And with your help, somehow, I make it through

  The rest of the world went to sleep an hour ago We watched it turn in from our porch swing We share the cloudless night  With a soft buzz of frogs and crickets I like it when the world gets quiet And we can steal a still moment together I like it when the night is newly set And we can watch the lightning bugs for a bit I like it when the air has just a touch of chill And you snuggle a little closer on the porch swing

Take a moment and look around See where we are Think back to where we started We have come so far We have done so much We have helped so many We have had wins and losses Good days and bad Days when I fell, and you helped me stand Days when we supported each other Navigating rocky terrain Days when we lost our way And drifted along together for a time I would not have made it this far If you were not with me I am thankful we are making this journey together

  It happens whenever this song plays I can hear her voice as she sings along Adding shape to the abstract And color to the unseen Her cadence ebbs as I inhale Flows as I exhale Her fingers snap along with my heartbeat During the chorus, she spins I get dizzy She is with me while the tune exists But gone when it is over As the music fades into oblivion So does she.

  I am almost there There are only a few miles left I can smell the cinnamon tea Steeping on the coffee table The goldfinch promises a song I can hear the porch swing creaking Nudged by a gentle wind And see the lightning bugs dance I can smell fresh cut grass And hear her singing somewhere  I eagerly await her warm embrace Then I will know I am home That is where I want to be I am almost there.

  I am consistently amazed  at the level to which She is attuned to  The initial faint whispers of an early spring. She is energized by growth, renewal, birth, becoming Rising abuzz with the essence of youth emerging Eyes wider to the lighter greens still yearning for longer days Rejoicing in the golden glowing morning Savoring the mild hesitation of the lilac dusk She awakens eagerly as the earth does, overcoming grey slumber Opens her arms in unison with the blue and orange flowers. She welcomes the new beginnings with a warm embrace. As she finds her home and hope in the blooming of a new young spring, I find mine in her, and follow her into the soft, warm, dew-dappled morning. 02/28/2022