Journey


Paths

Melba Christie

 

 

We all start our journey through life,

with the pitter-patter of our feet.

a milestone most of us meet,

by about the age of one,

all is discovery and so much fun.

 

But life will take you down many paths

some will be rough and some smooth

some you will hate

some you will love

some created just for you with blessings from above

 

Each journey a stop but not a destiny

each step purposeful and meaningful

so many lessons to be learned

even when you decide to make a sharp turn.

The journey of life

no one knows the measure

but try to make each moment

one to be treasured.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When We Listen


When We listen

When we listen
we can hear the unspoken words
of the sages of the future

when we listen
the songs of the crickets
are meant to heal our souls

when we listen
we can decipher
the secret whispers
of the butterflies

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Photo by Melba Christie

When we listen
we can hear
the heart strings of a young lover
strumming like an acoustic guitar

when we listen
we can hear
the harp of our soul
playing an opus
to help us become
more aware of who we are

when we listen
there’s no telling
what sounds will resonate
to help us appreciate
the life we take for granted
all the more.

Will We Be Ready?


Thinking about some of Life’s questions. I guess I am feeling a little philosophical and inquisitive in general. What do you think? Are you ready?

Melba Christie at Poemattic

the falls

Essential question:

Will we be ready?

Ready for what?

To be who we are supposed to be.

Response:

What do you mean?

I am who I am.

I am who I am supposed to be.

Rationale?

We are suppose to be

a seed,

to breed love

unconditionally.

We are suppose to be

a dance,

choreographed with perfect

movements, creating

expressions of

deep empathy, and

the essence of what

life is all about.

We are supposed to be

a soothing song of springtime.

We are supposed to be the composer

who delves deep into our hearts

to help us find our very own arias

and makes us listen closely to the beats

that mark our time on this earth.

Internal Question:

Wow! Will I be ready?

Answer:

You bet!

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The Old Address Book


The old leather bound address book

sits faithfully and patiently

on the desk he would sit at for hours.

 

He does not open it anymore;

the names inside,

phantoms of the past,

long distance area codes,

of the places he loved to visit with old friends.

attached are notes with extra large paper clips

remind him to call for one reason or another

but he cannot remember if he did .

 

Mother turns the pages

as she softly sings the alphabet song.

She stops at the letter “J”

hoping the name “Jo” jogs his memory.

 

She then turns to the letter “M”

and then like magic

he calls out “mama”

and asks for the phone

because he forgot to call her today

tears quickly rush down his face

he remembered

she is gone.

 

 

 

 

Love of Life


Very pensive today. I remembered this poem. I want to share it again. Hope you enjoy it.

Melba Christie at Poemattic

Inside me is a profound love
for life itself
Each breath I take reminds me
life is too short
Too brief compared to eternity

And what is eternity?
Who truly knows its measure?
I know my love is forever and
Shall be eternal
I count the stars every night
to make it so

The leaves of grass,
Waves,
Clouds,
They will outlive me
And when I am laid to rest
They will know somehow
I loved their presence
In my life
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