The Last Dance

Graceful fingers slightly curve

Arms above, her

Head tilts back, neck elongates

Body snaps,

And twirls, then twirls again

Leg goes up, extends, around

Then down

To touch the ground.

She moves like notes on melodies

Entwined, emotive symphonies

Divine

Her heartbeat fills the room

Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom,

Gliding,

Smooth.

It touches everyone,

A flow

From head to toe.

We feel it.

Then, she smiles,

And we know.

We know her passion to

Awaken dreams

Thought dead in those

Who’d accepted

Defeat instead.

“Rise up!

Get moving!

You’ve got this!

You can do it!”

That is what she said.

And they rose

Moved

Dreamed

Achieved

Believed

Because

She knew it.

Soft arms

Fiercely embrace,

A sweet smile

Emanating grace,

Beauty

Spontaneously unfolds

And wraps a multitude

Brings them together,

One.

Laughing,

Dancing

Loving

Being,

One.

Childish giggles

Echo as they

Run among

Those gone before.

They gaze in awe

In rooms where

History’s laid out,
At things once old,

Now new to them.

Rotary phone?

A typewriter, and

Feathered hats?

Flapper dress and

Polished Mary Janes

Crossing lanes -

To meet?

“Yes,” she said,
"Yes."

“Don’t you

forget -

To remember.”

She kneels

at the end

of the number.

Arms outstretched,

Head lifted

Smile radiant

Eyes closed.

It was her final pose

The last dance we would see

Now every move
 is Heavenly.

She’s twirling with the angels.

In Memory of  Brenda Cooper

Thank God for Creativity

Thank God for creativity, which keeps me sane. I escape into craftily written stories on pages worn by constant turning. They transport me to places where characters are observed without reciprocated scrutiny. Even villains fascinate. Escapism? Maybe, but when I'm through there is enlarged capacity to cope, to execute.

Sometimes I look at pretty things - fashion, vintage cars, beautiful landscapes and fabulous decor. Or, I write. Words tumble from my soul, and cascade down to fingers moving faster than my thoughts. Once captured on paper I shift phrases around, and erase sentences which I'd believed clever, yet needed more work. There is no drudgery in the process though. I love it, as much as I love music, another avenue to harmony.

Worship songs, soothing jazz, salsa, flamenco, blues, easy listening, or reggae (I am an Island girl), all have the same effect. They make my heart happy. It's easier to face the day, the issue, the person, the challenge, when you're filled with joy. Do I handle all things perfectly after these moments of beautiful? The answer is no, but my best efforts are easier and I'm grateful to a creative God who knows exactly what I need.

It's All About Them

Sometimes getting up is easier said than done. Life happens. Control what you can, manage what you must, but whatever you do, don't give up.

Recently, my cousin lost a son to gun violence. He now wakes up to a new reality of inexplicable loss, yet unanswered questions and the effort to ensure his son has not died in vain. There are others close to me for whom this is also true, who became beacons of light for many. Being an example was not their goal. Making it one moment at a time, one step at a time, one day at a time is what they reached toward. Yet, they've made a difference for someone else.

This is not a post about death, rather it's an exposition of the power of renewed purpose in the face of adverse circumstances. In spite of difficulty, I see them rise each day and create beauty in the midst of it all. They are strength wrapped in pain, fortified by struggle, unified in shared sorrow, comforted by memories. They are unending resilience who celebrate the life of their loved one yet ache at the loss.

Is it hard to do? I imagine so. Are they sometimes bereft and inconsolable? I imagine that too. Knowing the right things to say or do when it gets tough often isn't easy. What is acceptable support? It differs. The key is not causing further injury.

Sometimes, there is nothing we can do. Accept this truth. I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. A hug. Silence, giving them space to process, accept, breathe, figure out how to move forward. These are all options, but every situation requires something different. Pray before approaching. Remain quiet if you are unsure. Even expressions of love may be rejected. Don't take it personally. After all, it's not about you. It's all about them.

Built to Last

Forest Gump said, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." That may be, but you have what it takes to handle whatever comes.

In this season of life I am more aware of the many facets God has used to fashion me. When He shaped Thea -  vulnerability, focus, kindness, and a brazen resolve to never give up - were securely stitched into the fabric of my soul. Complementing them are brokenness, and scars of varying hurts that have since healed. I occasionally touch each one to remind myself of just how fragile yet strong I am. Sometimes new wounds appear, and I go through the process of healing again - emerging more resilient at the end.

Every day can be a celebration - of a lesson learned through loss, a victory won through conquest or simply the beauty of having the will to push beyond resounding defeat. The key is to get up, determined to make the most of what you have been given. And on this journey called life - you will rise again and again - not because you like the battle, but because you're built to last.

Work Of Art

Color your world. Make it beautiful with long strokes and bold splashes. Adorn the landscape of your dreams. You can make it happen, just believe. When you believe, you are convicted to transform what you see into what it should become.  Passion drives you. Actualization, realization, whatever word you wish to use - the shaping of your vision is a thing of beauty.

Dreams come to life at the whisper of your thoughts, the sound of your words. Create a whirlwind of movement and dance into the realm of possibility, step by step. Vibrant colors need both light and dark. The mix develops hues that grace the stark white canvas that is you. Don’t be afraid of the dark. Walk through until you step into the light. You will find the dark is not a scary place. In those moments, absence of light awakens other senses, and you create in ways you never could in illuminated spaces.

A potter spins the wheel just so, slight pressure here, a bit firmer there. Each stage is an unfolding.  Let pressure grace the vessel with its nuances – creating character that would not otherwise be found. Nobody ever said it would always be easy. Everything may not be wonderful, but it will be good – in the end, it will be good.

Hear, see, understand – allow. Eliminate, ruminate – appreciate. Mix your colors, dare to see beyond mundane. Hear the sounds you missed while focusing on fears of never being seen, or heard, or understood. No matter what you do, you’ll leave a legacy; so make it good. Watch your colors seep into lives, as their canvas, too, becomes a work of art.

On The Edge...

I am on auto pilot - at least that's how it seems.  God's ways are just phenomenally wonderful. They keep me on the edge - you just never know what He's going to do next until it begins to unfold like soft petals on a rosebud, and the finished product is greater than anything you could ever imagine - simply beautiful.

There is this excitement in my spirit - like when you get the hint that a surprise is coming but you don't know what or when - because the organizers are really good at keeping a secret - that kind of excitement. You become acutely aware of everything going on around you, and so there is very little that you miss.

I am pleased with the evolution of creativity - songwriting, artistic views, innovative ideas - and that has caused the greatest expectation for the project I am working on.

Everyday God brings someone or something to my attention, and I add it to the growing list that is slowly becoming a plan - His plan.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

I am "sitting on the edge of life" - enjoying the view, knowing that the best is yet to come.