recuerda mi corazon

birdalicious JOY!

 

lynne at lynne hoppe

 

 

jenny at  ladybug circus

 

 

ann at ann wood

 

 

stephanie at mango studio

 

rebecca at recuerda mi corazon

 

flora at brave intuitive you

 

 

mandy at thread and thrift

 

 

cathy at cathy cullis

 

 

 

leighanna at leighanna light thingmaker

 

elista at elsa mora's blog

 

 

kimmie at art in red wagons

 



jean at bluebirds living in the meadow

 

 

oh spring, such sweet inspiration.

mornings erupting in beautiful uplifting song.

i am smitten with birds and the art they inspire.

here is a smorgasbord of thread, cloth, paint, canvas, tin......

BIRDS and ARTISTS i adore.

visit and perhaps you will hear

BIRDALICIOUS!!!

JOY

 

such singing in the wild branches

 

Such Singing in the Wild Branches 

It was spring
and finally I heard him
among the first leaves—
then I saw him clutching the limb

in an island of shade
with his red-brown feathers
all trim and neat for the new year.
First, I stood still

and thought of nothing.
Then I began to listen.
Then I was filled with gladness—
and that's when it happened,

when I seemed to float,
to be, myself, a wing or a tree—
and I began to understand
what the bird was saying,

and the sands in the glass
stopped
for a pure white moment
while gravity sprinkled upward

like rain, rising,
and in fact
it became difficult to tell just what it was that was singing—
it was the thrush for sure, but it seemed

not a single thrush, but himself, and all his brothers,
and also the trees around them,
as well as the gliding, long-tailed clouds
in the perfectly blue sky— all, all of them

were singing.
And, of course, yes, so it seemed,
so was I.
Such soft and solemn and perfect music doesn't last

for more than a few moments.
It's one of those magical places wise people
like to talk about.
One of the things they say about it, that is true,

is that, once you've been there,
you're there forever.
Listen, everyone has a chance.
Is it spring, is it morning?

Are there trees near you,
and does your own soul need comforting?
Quick, then— open the door and fly on your heavy feet; the song
may already be drifting away.

— Mary Oliver

Ode to Spring!

what was i thinking??? 

when i took the most beloved day of the year,

Spring equinox

and slated it for a doomed from the start wedding?

were there signs?

oh, an abundance of

RED FLAGS all shouting

STOP

move away from the groom!!!!!

 did it rain with a vengeance quelling every sweet bird song?

did i loose my footing in the garden of innocence

nearly falling from grace???  

was my love blind?

did the camera misfire and refuse to record a single image of memories?

did the blossom of sweet youth in the bosom of eternal optimism

 wither and die on the vine?

all YES!!!!!

 and for a long, long time..

(insert gravely sorrowful voice)

did the first day of Spring 

conjure up a gazillion

shattered dreams and broken hearts?

sadly, yes.

did i live to sing again???
 
find my way back to wholeness and the joy of every season, 

 finally realize the world spins with a

greater purpose than

myself,

did i claim courage once again

to boldly open my eyes and heart?

did i

get my groove back,

fly in the face of grave misfortune,

find humor, 

promise and happiness once more?

definitely 

YES!

 
did i learn to

face life squarely,

look unabashed into the heart of each new moment?

reassemble the thousand broken pieces of life

into something

whole???

A resounding YES!!!!!!!!

did, in the moment of forgiveness

music play in the distance?

flowers spring into bloom,

birds light in my 

hair?

 (spare me)

 

but, after picking up all the pieces and fashioning a perfectly

older more wisely

don't-let-her-innocent-daisy-eyes-fool-you-self,

finally,

welcome spring!!!!!!

 

life-size mosaic skull

up-cycled emotions, glass, porcelain flowers,

kitsch ceramic birds,

and a whole lot of reflection.

how will you embrace Spring today?

outside my window

 

the perfect scent of pine

this year..... 

i want the "little" back in Christmas....

tiny crystal lights strung together

 like a chain of softly uttered prayers 

offered humbly

over the top of this cluttered world. 

 just a simple white rosary of lights, 

that no one puts away when the holidays are over. 

little.......like the moment 

when all the crowded cost co isles slipped from view, 

as I heard an older couple 

singing a familiar Christmas carol

on a karaoke machine. 

soft and reverent, their paper thin voices rained

over the sound system 

as gently and fragile as an unexpected snow. 

suddenly i was five,

sitting in church between my brother and parents,

as the voices of the elders broke my heart;

 the way you want

your heart to be broken.

i want those long ago  footsteps of my small son 

sneaking down the stairs way too early on Christmas morning, 

when the sheer delight of possibilities  

was enough

to take his breath away. 

and that little note he left for Santa

beside a generous plate of just baked gingerbread cookies. 

Dear Santa, 

Please share the cookies with your reindeer. And could you please find

the missing key to my treasure chest and leave it under our Christmas 

tree so I know you are real?

Love, 

 Adrian

 

i remember

when a worn brass key 

hardly the size of the first snow flakes of winter 

could keep the magic of believing alive. 

i spent most of that night

desperately 

searching 

for the key that would open his treasure chest. 

and as fate would have it......i did!

i left it on the plate 

with a few less gingerbread cookies. 

in the morning it was adrian's first destination. 

he gripped that tiny key in relief and wonder.

 i don't remember how many years past

until i knelt before that old trunk 

grandmother had given to me

 when i was a child....

and so many years later,

i to him. 

 S l o w l y

i placed the familiar key in the old lock

and gave it a careful turn. 

it was a hot summer day and what met me was the faint,  

perfect smell of Christmas. 

stacked to the top... 

silently waiting,

a humble collection of frail little branches 

retrieved from each hallowed pine

of all our holidays together. 

always the last vestige of Christmas

to be taken down and

adrian's most difficult to release.

carefully, 

without notice

he had kept a remnant of each beloved tree.

may the smallest most tender

memories of Christmas 

tie our hearts to both seen and unseen miracles. 

may all the disparate shards of life knit themselves together 

under a pure silent blanket of snow. 

and just for a few white hours, 

before scads of new sleds and brightly bundled kids 

weave their spirited footsteps 

across the soft horizon; 

let our world be transformed.

as my husband and countless others 

clamour for a little more time, 

as our grown son longs for different "little" things 

i hear that couple singing....

have yourself a merry little christmas, 

let your heart be light..........

 i smell the perfect scent of pine and send this simple hope...

that a soft snow will fall forgiving all our short comings 

and deliver us pure white to the waiting new year.   

......that some small forgotten memory 

will fill each heart

with a surge of love and wonder, 

that no one puts away when the holidays are over.

for more joy...

 

postcards from paradise, walk slowly bow often

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

they give off such hints of gladness,
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, "It's simple," they say,

"and you too have come

into the world to do this,

to go easy, to be filled

with light, and to shine."

~ Mary Oliver ~

 

i cannot resist the company of trees. where the torch of early morning and equally

 just before sunset fills the last clinging leaves

igniting them in a cathedral of gladness.

how easily they glow with the inner light of standing still,

open armed, just their willingness to be filled

 makes it so.

i am five steps outside myself

standing in paradise. 

where dear friends, has following the light taken you?

postcards from paradise finding sacred in the ordinary.

a chance to visit others and leave a word of kindness along the way.

simply sign in with your postcards from paradise link

leave the words recuerda mi corazon 

on your post and link back so

more may join us.

 

saving grace

  

 

 oh,

 seriously???

 you want the mashed potatoes

and the sweet

 potatoes?

 

 

love from the kitchen,

xoxoxoxox