In me a process of dance and light.
The blue embrace of gravity to keep me safe.
My brush then dips to freedom green,
More air and less rigidity.
Then yellow light comes bounding in
Where life and dance do soon begin.
A hint of brown gives groundedness.
There’s hints of red and fire within.
My body blue, I’m not sure why,
But to the left the blue turns red,
Another burst of fire.
Around the edge I feel compelled
To stroke my brush… connectedness!
Now at the end some solid lines,
Blue, strong and straight ahead.
Now as I look and make some sense,
It is about connectedness, and at this age of 64
I look and see experience.
I see the past, my life it is.
Present life today I live.
Future birth unfolds.
Process it’s called.
This work it is to understand
The BEAUTY of a life well lived.
© Jan. 3/07 Rfc
ACCEPT THE MYSTERY
I ask myself, what is the mystery? My answer is Life, it’s all pure mystery. It’s how I got here, how I’ve lived all these years. I’m seventy-four years old. Just about three quarters of century on this earth, that’s a long time. I started out totally dependent on my mother to nurse me and my father to provide security. Mother always fed me but not so much the nourishment of emotional food. Father gave me security when I was very young but that security became less and less and by the time I was fourteen – gone. He was gone, my security was gone. He literally drove away. We watched the tail lights of his car go down the hill and disappear around the corner. Emotional abuse followed. He disowned me when I was fifteen. I disowned him when I was a young mother in my early twenties. What a mystery!
I had three boys and one daughter, happy years. I had a brain tumor and a marital break-up, tough times. I went to college, a means to an end to get back into the work force, an Interesting time. I made a big move from small rural living to city life. Full time employed as a single parent, a busy time. There was growth, challenge and change. Empty nest was an adjustment, retirement was an adjustment, kids gone, job gone, house gone but I’m still here. It’s a mystery.
Believe I must. Believe all is well. The baby was born, the young girl grows up. The young woman marries and has children. The middle aged woman discovers her strength. The old woman accepts the mystery of life and believes all is well. There were mistakes, events, life, and mystery.
© Dec. 9/16 Rfc