There Will Soon Come a Time...

There will soon come a time
...in my own final hours

When perhaps I'm unable
to get to my flowers

And when this time comes for me
Give me this image

A point locked in time,
of my own life's sweet vintage

To live my days fully
 By eve, no regrets

Tender moments like these
May I never forget...


I am sufficiently convinced that life is for the most part, taken for granted, used up mindlessly in day to day activity and needless worry.

More and more I am discovering that it is in these (what I call) raw zones...(i.e. points in time where helplessness forces a being state more than a doing state...When people I love face things I can't fix, where things I have planned go a 180 opposite...) in these moments, I am learning, if I but release, and the sooner the better) the very vibration and essence of what I do next, brings a gift.  For some reason, these raw moments open a portal to a new level of meaning, and feeling and "real" to my life ...and how I invest that, gets placed in my long term memory bank for to sustain me in future times of need.

While none of us ask for pain or loss, the fact that certain things are so penetratingly sad, it pierces the flow of our tick-tock thinking, stopping us in our tracks, knocking us to our knees, slapping us in the face. Ironic there'd be a gift in that, but something about forced to snap out of our everyday, take-it-for-granted surface thinking, brings a new level of consciousness...even if for the moment. Maybe life forcing us to let go of the notion that we're in charge...Who can say?

As yet another I love faces bitter news, I come to my garden alone.

All I can feel ...
All I can hear...
is "Capture your snapshot, Evins...This is one of those moments."

Once again, the day's events had opened the portal...I returned from an exhausting day of doctor's visits and poor prognoses of people I care about. Feeling more helpless than usual, I head straight for my garden to find my newly planted lavender babies had taken their first quantum leaps of growth, having been transplanted a few short days before...(Quantum leaps being relative at this stage...2 inches is a lot when you're a seedling.)

Rosey follows me out and in an instant she stops, lies down as if curling around the little plant, then cuts her eyes looking up at me as if to say "Don't worry, Mom, it will be ok. "  (Here is Rosey, all 130 pounds of her, lying next to this sprig of a plant, with the same protective instinct that TJ and Hiccapups have for protecting newborn baby goats.)

Moments like these--simple, silent moments like these, pack a powerful punch anymore these days.  I think I shall remember this moment forever. (And that's a good thing.) Little grainy by way of cell phone, but crystal clear in my heart...

Lovin'my Rosey...Lovin' my Lavender...Lovin' this Moment