Ode To The Lemon~Pablo Neruda

From blossoms
released
by the moonlight,
from an
aroma of exasperated
love,
steeped in fragrance,
yellowness
drifted from the lemon tree,
and from its plantarium
lemons descended to the earth.

Tender yield!
The coasts,
the markets glowed
with light, with
unrefined gold;
we opened
two halves
of a miracle,
congealed acid
trickled
from the hemispheres
of a star,
the most intense liqueur
of nature,
unique, vivid,
concentrated,
born of the cool, fresh
lemon,
of its fragrant house,
its acid, secret symmetry.

Knives
sliced a small
cathedral
in the lemon,
the concealed apse, opened,
revealed acid stained glass,
drops
oozed topaz,
altars,
cool architecture.

So, when you hold
the hemisphere
of a cut lemon
above your plate,
you spill
a universe of gold,
a
yellow goblet
of miracles,
a fragrant nipple
of the earth’s breast,
a ray of light that was made fruit,
the minute fire of a planet.

A Man

I was fortunate to meet a man today who happened to be Italian (my heritage)–a man who was passionate when he spoke of life, his family, the love of his life (his wife), his home country and his singing.

We talked about how today is so much about “now” and “right away” and “disposable.” People can be wadded up and tossed out with Tuesday’s trash when they appear “unexciting,” “respect” is somewhat of a lost art form that many people vaguely remember and, in all of the busyness, rushing and noise, we can miss out on some simple pleasures and passions.

So a garage sale turned into a serendipitous moment filled with warmth and light. “It’s about this,” he said tapping his chest where his heart was. Yes, it is.

Power of Dreams

Friends,

Have you ever had a dream—or dreams—where you’ve been lucky that they’ve clarified situations or relationships previously left obscure in your life? Where they are so dead on so you know deep down in your psyche that every bit of them is truth?

I have been fortunate to have these dreams—not once—but at different times and each time I awaken I am grateful for them. There’s a sense of peace after the haunting and some type of clarification of what was left asunder. It’s an odd yet fascinating experience.

What about you? Have your dreams ever clarified something or situations that were left in the lurch? How did you feel after waking up? Just curious . . . .

~P

 

Mom

Dear Mom,

I want you to know how much I love and appreciate you. You have shown me so much–how to love, what love is and much more. While life has not always been kind and although the last couple of months have been trying, you have come through it all with a never-ending, deep well of love for all of us.

Today I celebrate more than your existence. I think about your love and what it has meant to everyone who has come into contact with you. I consider your humor that has lightened my life. I reflect on your endurance when life’s shadows have blackened out the sun, moon and stars and you’ve had to navigate in the dark (even after stubbing toes) to find your way into the light.

You are the most inspiring woman I know and I am beyond happy to call you “Mom.” You are so much more than a best friend.

Have a beautiful day.

Love,

Your daughter

The Freedom of the Moon ~Robert Frost


I’ve tried the new moon tilted in the air
Above a hazy tree-and-farmhouse cluster
As you might try a jewel in your hair.
I’ve tried it fine with little breadth of luster,
Alone, or in one ornament combining
With one first-water start almost shining.

I put it shining anywhere I please.
By walking slowly on some evening later,
I’ve pulled it from a crate of crooked trees,
And brought it over glossy water, greater,
And dropped it in, and seen the image wallow,
The color run, all sorts of wonder follow.

~Robert Frost

Bradbury Quote from Fahrenheit 451

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.

It doesn’t matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime.”

~Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Love vs. Abandonment

Life has been interesting of late. Translation:  not much blogging. Fingers crossed, prayers said, waiting and hoping for good news next week regarding a person I love dearly. Grateful the test went smoothly.

In the meantime, I was thinking about a word that is probably one of my most hated— “abandonment.” After dealing with this “word/issue” in my own life and seeing it recently playing out in the lives of people I care about, it became forefront and center. I don’t believe anyone—regardless of gender—ever wants to feel abandoned.

We don’t want to wake up one day and find that our spouses have left. We don’t want to discover that our best friends ditched us. We don’t want our boyfriends or girlfriends to just move on and “forget” to tell us. 

As humanity, we have a universal need to be loved and to feel secure in that loving. To know that despite our shortcomings and idiosyncrasies, we are worthy of unconditional love (I’m not talking about remaining in an abusive relationship—physical and/or emotional).

With love, there’s trust—not blind trust if someone has betrayed and hurt us—but trust that is a safety net. Trust that is reminiscent of the sun—it rises in the morning to brighten our day and sets in the evening. It is dependable, reliable. Even when nighttime comes, we are not left completely in the dark—we have the gift of the moon and the stars.

How many of us know what it feels like to be loved unconditionally? Love that doesn’t have to be romantic, although it can be wonderful. It could be love between best friends, love between a child and parent or even the love for a community who acts like family to us.

 I am grateful to have many people who do love me. I have felt the aftereffects of abandonment—deep hurts that have scarred over yet serve as reminders. While not desirable, they are mine. They are beautiful in a marring sense—they remind me that I have felt pain, loneliness, sadness yet here I am today—alive and more grateful for those who do love me.

So for any of you dealing with abandonment, it hurts—badly. I am sorry for what you are going through (M and J). I think of you every day and feel it, too, knowing what you’re dealing with. It won’t matter much to hear it now, but you’ll make it through today, then tomorrow, then another day and pretty soon a week has gone by. A month, a year and, at some point, it won’t hurt as much. In the meantime, I love you and you’re not alone.

~Pamela