crocus ...

I saw a picture in todays news
of crocus blooming in front of the Eiffel Tower
and I felt a little sad

maybe that is what is missing today
is a little colour in my life
grey dismal skies
drizzle in the air


melting piles of dinghy coloured snow ...

and yet
in Paris
the crocus are blooming
wish I was there now ...

the music plays ...

I am sitting here listening to

Mr. Bobby Rush
visualizing him in my mind
as I hear his words
and hear him play his harp
knowing that his eyes were twinkling
as he recorded his tunes
his dirty little ditties
meant to bring a smile to your face
with his bag full of props

sending his love of people and joy in life
abounding out into the crowd
shaking hands,
buzzing cheeks
those tight squeezing hugs ...
his tunes guaranteed to make you dance

and as I go about
cleaning house
doing laundry
making the bed ...
I do so with a dance in my step
cause in my soul

the music plays ...

do I like to travel was the question asked of me ...

I love to travel
to see new sites
to meet new people
I like to watch the faces of children before they are grown up too soon

I like to watch the colours of the sky
to see the hues of the setting sun
awaking early the next morn to see the new day arise
I like to smell the smells at the markets
to feel the colour of the cloth
I love the feel of the sand under my toes
and the special smell of the waves splashing my feet

I like to see their homes
the adornments that they make
the colours that they use
the flowers in their gardens
and to peek and see if they have a sense of humour
and have included little garden gnomes ...

I love to sit outside in the sun and feel her glorious rays beam down upon my cheek
and to soak up the aura and the energy of all those who have sat in that same place
and to feel content
the content in knowing that I am not the first
nor will I be the last
to sit in that same exact spot,
feeling that same exact way ...

I like to wander through the cemeteries
and feel the love
of those that have gone before
reading their names
and following their familial lines
feeling the grief of the parents who lost their wee ones to small pox
holding them in their arms for their final breaths ...
and yet in the very next line will be the story of a man who lived to be
104 years and 37 days
a man who died with his boots on!

I want to dance in a field full of flowers
and feel their essence immerse me
arms out stretched and feeling the glow and the power of the sun ...

I want to see a whale swimming in the ocean
I have always been too far away
and seem to catch the very tale end ...
to feel the spray of the sea and hear the birds scream on by ...

I want to see and feel the wonder of this glorious place we call home
this planet earth ...
and so you ask me if I like to travel ...
hmmmmmm
how can I answer with a simple yes ...