Full day

Today holds a conference, new faces, perhaps some old; a client; and a closing birthday dinner for my beloved. Right now it holds coffee, cat, flowers and sun. A good beginning.

I face a full day

The cat

The flowers

The sun

Call me forth

Into the promise.

A quiet day

Today is a day of rest, God willing.

A quiet day.

Classes chosen

To the West.

Flowers on the front table

To remind us,

Life continues.

Sometimes it continues

The way we have planned,

Sometimes

Not.

Magenta petunia

I found myself thinking about my Dad as I planted the pots in front of the house with petunias.  He called all flowers petunias.  There is one, unforeseen, unplanned, magenta petunia in the right hand pot next to the front door.  I see it and think about Dad.

He called all flowers

Petunias

No matter what they were

Really.

This year is the first one

I planted petunias,

Really petunias,

In the front pots.

We bought all purple

Except one bloomed

Magenta.

It is fitting

They are not all

The same,

These petunias planted

The day after Father’s Day.

He called everything that bloomed

A petunia.

It was his way.

He would appreciate

That magenta petunia

In the midst

Of a sea

Of purple.

Today I do not have to be brought anywhere

Today the calendar shows no appointments.  One car is with my daughter at camp.  The other car is with my beloved at work.  Today is a day of planting purple in the front and yellow in the back, whichever spot is shady.  It is HOT today, so time in the sun is not in the cards.  Today is a day to be thankful for air conditioning and time with the cat.

Today

I do not have to be brought

Anywhere.

I have enough flowers

And laundry

To keep me occupied here.

The altar flowers

Have finally succumbed

On the front table.

Today I breathe

In place.

I roamed Target yesterday

With my beloved,

Dreamed school dreams

All night,

Awakened to the knowledge

I am done with tests

And final exams.

Today this

Is what I get. 

I do not have to be brought

Anywhere.

This means I am able

To be here.

After the ice cream cones

I live with two wonderful people who now operate at a different speed than I do.  Or perhaps I should say: Now I operate at a different speed than they do.  It wasn't always this way.  Now it is.

After the ice cream cones

We bought two flats

Of flowers,

One for the back,

One for the front,

Then came mushroom compost

At the local hardware store.

We must find lawn furniture

She said.

So

We looked for lawn furniture

At Jewel.

When it wasn’t there

We shopped for food.

I used to be able

To do several errands

In a row.

Now I must do

One at a time.

Today I contemplate

Mushroom compost,

The planter preparation.

Today I even consider

The possibility

Of trimming the hedge.

Altar flowers

I was named the recipient of the altar flowers this week.  They arrived at my door with a smile.  Of course.  And bear grass for the seizure cat, now sound asleep in the other room.  He has earned the sleep and has already begun to enjoy the bear grass when awake.  I am beginning to acclimate to the increased meds.

I received the altar flowers

On Tuesday

At home.

On Tuesday

I rearranged them

In the black olive vase.

The flowers even have

Bear grass

For the cat.

How thoughtful.

Today

One week out

I have begun

To see straight

Once again.

The flowers make an altar

Of the front table.

There are windows to the world

On either side,

The burning bushes green

Through the glass.

Blues and purples

This started as a piece on how certain blues in flowers almost glow when the sun is barely setting.  Clearly it didn*t go there.  Kinda like the clematis, almost not trainable in its growth.  A few years ago we began collecting metal sculptures for the yard, welded-together pieces of farm implements, painted with weather-durable paint.  The purple dog is now placed next to the rhubarb.

In flowers

I favor

The blues and purples.

They grab my attention

Every time.

Today the blue wild indigo

Thrives in the back yard,

Graces the front table

With blue-purple blossomed curves.

The lobelia

Promises accent

In the front planters.

The clematis of unknown origin

Will show purple

In late June.

This year it is barely trainable

With its vines and tendrils.

This year

The clematis spans two columns.

I have added more garden twine

For its growth.

Even the thistle

Has perfect purple top-knots

If allowed to grow.

There is low purple-flowered growth

Next to the rhubarb,

Unidentified

In the vegetable bed.

The bed no longer harbors vegetables.

Instead it holds the rhubarb,

A leggy elderberry bush,

And our painted purple metal dog sculpture.

The sculpture marks the garden

As a piece of art.

Pools of petals

A week or two ago I pointed out the flowering trees to the Spanish teacher at church.  It had rained and the dropping petals were beginning to form  fairy circles under the trees.  Isn*t it pretty?  I said.  

It*s so sad, she said, so very sad.

The mulberry peonies

Only in bud on Mother*s Day

Are full out now.

The petals drop

One or two or three an hour.

We just came home from church.

The table holds

A purple-red pool

Of petals.

We must have been gone

Longer than I thought.

It is a week

Of dropping petals.

The woman who teaches Spanish

At church,

When petals began to drop

From the trees:

The pear

The apple

The dogwood,

The woman said

Isn*t it sad?

Isn*t it so sad?

At the exact same time

I notice pink and white pools

Of petals.

I notice we see

Different things.

Urban Meadows

What are those things that bring us closer to health, closer to living more fully?  Today*s newspaper brought the story of a florist shop in Chicago which was created specifically to provide jobs for those with severe mental illness.  In warmer weather I garden.  It is no surprise to me that flowers may bring out the best in us, even grow us into fuller human beings.  Here is a link to the article:  http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/ct-met-valentine-florist-20120211,0,5750000.story

She learns to stick with it

Longer and longer

As time goes on:

This woman who arranges flowers

For her life.

She has talent

Yes

Yet flowers

Give her reason

For living;

Flowers offer the entirety

Of what they are

To her arrangements,

Value displayed

In each arrangement.

There is little suspicion

From others

She has not arranged flowers

For hours and hours

Every day

For years upon years.

She learns to offer each arrangement

Separately.

She has talent

Yes

The flowers fill more and more of the spaces

The voices filled.

Now she is filled more and more

With flowers.

She has talent

Yes

And flowers.