THINGS I HAVE LOVED

 

Me and Pup - the Dog of Joy
(He was jumping for a treat!)

The sky, ever-changing in colour and mood,

in sun, in starshine, in midnight moons.

The river wild, remembering my old

wolf-dog's eyes looking helplessly at me
as the current caught him,

and he started drifting away,
me getting ready to

plunge in after him, till an outcropping 

caught him, returning him to me.

For I have loved him best
in this world.

I have loved mornings, the certain smell

at the farm that takes me back to

summer mornings as a child; and that

golden time in late afternoon, when 

the light changes and turns the trees

to amber; and that smell - petrichor -

just before the first drops of rain,

when once more I am back in childhood,

listening to a thunderstorm
in the back room of the cottage
on Christleton Avenue

with my Grandma.

Sunrises and sunsets, which I miss 

in my elder years, because I am always

still tired, when I wake up, and
too tired at day's end.

But I remember, I remember, skies

that looked like the floor of heaven,

me sitting on a log, wondering

if the one I loved loved me.

He didn't, but my wolf-dog did;

he showed me how love was
meant to be.

I love tiny purple crocuses 

out on the lawn, brave forerunners,
as spring tiptoes in,

just waiting to spread her skirts

of white blossoms across 

the two old cherry trees
in the yard. I love summers,

sitting out front in the sun, and rocking,
watching the world walking by
with its children and dogs and canes.
I love when they wave and I wave back.

I love the big window through which

I watch the changing skies and seasons.
Sometimes an eagle swoops past,
sometimes a skinny heron
perches in a topmost tree.

I love that last Valentine's Day

I woke up to discover

someone unknown had taped small hearts

all across  the front windows - love,

to make a stranger smile.

I love the orange gerberas

on my desk, with their black eyes,
brightening this rainy day

as I ponder the winter ahead
with its indoor comforts.

I love ancient old growth: thick weathered

trunks and old man's beard,
moss and lichen,

and feeling in the forest like I once did

long ago at morning mass:
silent, peaceful,
reverential.

I love long sandy shores stretching

to forever, and the way my wolf dog and I 

walked them, wildly, joyously
for years; never again
would I feel so whole, so free,

after he was gone from me.

I love the beauty of the world,
the true, good hearts of animals, and
what is best in humanity,
when people bring their open hearts
to helping others
in times of trouble.
Times when we puny humans
reach deep within,
and connect with something deeper,
something bigger
than ourselves
that is called Love.

So much love keeps my heart
full to the brim
on any given day,
and I know that
I have been very lucky
in this life; I have been
gifted and blessed
in every single way.

For Mary's prompt at What's Going On? LOVE. What the world needs now.