Somehow the hours drifted by
Beneath the sound of the pool being filled by trickling water
The feel of the mower chewing grass as it arced underneath in circles
A mind left to wander and dwell in places longer than usual
The warmth of autumn sunshine shining down my back
Cobwebs untangled
Decks swept
And sitting in the dark with the full moon above
And a fire pit glowing and sparkling warmth on my face
Another Easter passed us by
While I stood aside from all that raced
And felt my tank slowly fill again
I pegged clothes on the line
And patted my dogs
And walked barefoot in cold damp grass
The days galloped onwards rejoining the calendar after a four day pit stop
And I wonder is this what happens to all those years?
They just disappear
Smothered under the ordinary hours that we are never fully here for
Always rushing ahead,
Instead, planning for the next
And the next
Leaping out of this minute before it is even fully formed
Living out of our dream tossed heads
Instead of spread eagled on the lawn
Watching the clouds play hide and seek with the sun
We are buried in our phones
And cannot remember a time, when our hands held nothing
And our heads were free to roam
The Easter that was, and an older post:

Beautiful meanderings, Kate. With our tight schedules and plans for tomorrow and months ahead, today “just disappears.” Within the blink of an eye, “the ordinary hours” of each new day become yesterday and yesteryear.
It’s frightening how quickly a month, two months disappear Rosaliene, and we only get twelve and then it’s another year gone. Like trying to hold onto water in our two hands.
Perfect imagery: holding water in our hands!
Thanks Rosaliene
…how 50 years just roll by…
Thank you. This is my birthday poem 🙂
Happy birthday 🎈
Love this Kate!
“We are buried in our phones
And cannot remember a time, when our hands held nothing
💕
And our heads were free to roam”
Thanks Cindy. Empty hands are nice, I try and notice mine now and be grateful for the peace.
Absolutely true Kate.. You are a smart woman!!! 💖
😊💕
1💖💖
Years ago, I showed up for a doctor appointment an hour early by mistake. I just sat for that hour, No interesting magazines, no phone for several more years. I miss my ability to simply sit.
Yes Jeff. It takes a lot of practice to get back to just sitting. Technology has slowly boiled us like the frog analogy
And felt my tank slowly fill again.
Love that.
Kate, your words always touch my soul. “Leaping out of this minute before it is even fully formed”…I’m better now at loving fully in the moment. The rapid pace that some around me keep (my Mom still runs on the fastest paced, “let’s get it done and this is what I’ve done nearly 80 years and let’s move to the next place in my pace”. Oh how I love her! But because I’ve experienced SO MUCH CHANGE and she not, I’ve learned to flow with the minutes. Yes, I have routines. We all do. But I’ve become more intentional in my day. I mix things up. I’ve pruned people and things that have stunted my ability to stay slower and healthier. Each morning, after my devotionals, I complete a meditation. And it ends by me opening up my hands, palms up. I like beginning empty and remembering to do this when I feel my pace and space are invaded by careless existence. 💛🤗❤️
“I like beginning empty” I love this Karla – I will have to bring this into my morning practice. To empty and then to choose only the best things to fill our day and our mind with and discard the unhelpful and conflicting. Rituals have made a big difference in my life and there is a difference – the ability to choose and be aware – between ritual and routine. One is, as you say, intentional, the other can become habit.
Thank you, Kate. ❤️ I love how we learn from one another. Life at its best.
Exactly ✨