Reflections of the Past, Visions of the Future

It serves me well to remember my early years when home was a plot of land, my family's farm. Toes in the mud, hands planting in the dirt. Humble beginnings taught me not to want more than I thought I would need. A middle child, the quiet one having fun with siblings when work was done. Parents often found me reading a book, or writing stories of places I wanted to travel. I had ambitions to be a teacher... short-lived when in college my world turned new pages. I rearranged my beliefs when that life came into view, but my values stayed intact. Wife and mother took precedence but I still danced to the music in my mind and lyrical words waltzed from my hand to pages. Poetry written with enough ink to fill tomes of dreams, hopes, vignettes of where I'd sailed, where I was at those moments in time, and fantasies of where I hoped to be. But my boat capsized and, on the riverbank, I found myself taking stock of who I had become. I make no excuses for getting lost a time or ten in daydreams as easily as I smile with delight watching a butterfly emerge from its chrysalis. I wake at the edge of dawn to hear birds sing their trills when the world lies hushed and still. Often, I drop the reins of my imagination and allow it to run free and wild, as I did as a child, barefoot in the summer rain, only now, I do it as 'Nana,' with three grandchildren. I've never been able to shield my heart. Emotions insist on clinging onto my sleeves, even the part of me that grieves and broods. Faith gets me through those times when I fall into doldrums of a gloomy abyss that threatens to keep me buried inside the depth of its walls. Ecclesiastes says to everything there is a season. Autumn will always be my favorite time of year, although I wonder why for it's also nature's revelation to fulfill the destiny of trees, losing their leaves after such a short time. Green to crimson, withered, they fall aground. I've painted skies of blue and eyes of gray... the somber color of his when it was time to walk away. A few pieces of my puzzle are still scattered about but tomorrow is another day and I'm in no hurry to find them.