A Blooming Conundrum

sunlight fashions smiles
lifting faces to the blue
they sense springtime has
sidled up next to autumn
craving notoriety

rainfall quenches thirst
nourishment long awaited
wilted leaves revive

bright petals unfold
shivering with elation
winter watches with
concern as the months of spring
have seemingly reappeared

Lauren Scott (c) 2021
Photos from our yard with
thoughts from November.





If the Universe Would Share

Look to the galaxy, My Love.
The blue luminous star
I desire to be yours.
If the universe would share,
I’d pull the shimmering beauty
from the constellations
and place it in the palm
of your hands
next to my beating heart.
I wish we could sit upon
a slow-moving cloud,
dangling our legs
into freedom.
Our eyes would show
the emotion in our hearts.
Lips would touch, tenderly,
then with hunger
reeling through our veins
like magnetic energy.
We’d fall into
pleasant intoxication,
watching moonbeams
pierce our private night sky.

Lauren Scott (c) 2021

More Than Coffee – by Lauren Scott

Resa at Graffiti Lux Art & More surprised me with this elegant and gracious review of my book, More than Coffee. I am so happy she enjoyed my book to a level that would spark such a beautiful reaction. Another reason for me to be grateful!
For those of you who don’t know Resa, she is a photographer who features stunning Street Art of other cities around the globe through travels and guest contributors. Taking these photos is a passion of hers that brings immense joy. Each work of graffiti art or mural evokes thoughts in her, and these thoughts are reflected in the titles of her blog posts. I encourage you to pay her a visit! Thanks again, Resa! xo

Graffiti Lux Art & More

As a person who enjoys poetry and coffee, the decision to read Lauren’s well written book was a no-brainer. As a matter of fact, I languished over every poem and bit of prose. For 33 mornings, I read one piece with my coffee.

Each day’s reading brought me warm thoughts, stirred feelings and created a desire to be creative. What a great and positive way to start the day.

In this intimate look at her and  her family, nature plays a huge part in stirring memories of irreplaceable experiences, both uplifting and occasionally heartbreaking. All emotions are expressed beautifully in positive light.

I couldn’t resist picking my favourite poem.

This poem is an experience I share with Lauren. She could have been writing about me and my mom. I am deeply moved.

There is no copy and paste from the ebook. I wrote this out, and proofed it many times…

View original post 314 more words

Castanets

I remember yesterday when I stepped outside,
strolling down the undisturbed road
with my dog on my left, his gait as graceful
as a galloping horse in slow motion.
Maybe the squirrels raised their
sleepy heads because of the early hour.
The sky appeared to be coal black,
but when I turned the corner, watermelon pinks,
corals, and lemon yellows took center stage.
My camera did not deliver.
Then I thought of my son
who often says, “Enjoy the moment.”
I slipped that device back in my pocket.
Passing the orange poppies, I imagined
their stems fluttered with excitement,
eager for the sun’s ascent, and in the distance,
silence sang its serene ballad.
As the tempo of our pace sped up,
a breeze joined us,
and the leaves on the trees lining the lane
swayed in rhythm as though dancing a waltz.
Jowls flapped, he smiled with brown nose
set in overdrive. The sun’s gentle touch
added a glimmer to his copper coat.
There was a moment when I paused,
bending down to his level,
fingers stroking shiny, silky fur,
his eyes closed, contented from contact.
When we moved again, his nails on the asphalt
mimicked the clicking of castanets,
and in that second, I realized these observations
on this early morning are what life is all about…
the seeing…touching…smelling…listening…
the being.

Lauren Scott (c) 2021

Treasuring Poetry – Meet poet, Lauren Scott, and a review

I am honored to be a guest on Robbie Cheadle’s blog, Writing to be Read, and to have received such a beautiful review of my book, More than Coffee…

Writing to be Read

Today, I am delighted to introduce poet and blogger, Lauren Scott. I met Lauren recently through another blogging friend and I am delighted by her beautiful poetry and posts about hiking adventures with her husband.

Take it away, Lauren.

Which of your own poems is your favorite?

I narrowed it down to two favorites: “Simple Existence” and “To My Babies.”

Simple Existence

I stare at this page, milk white as the

blanketed ground in winter’s staging.

Where are the syllables?

***

I fear they have flown to faraway places,

across desert dunes and boundless oceans

and might not return so that I may tell him

(again) how irreplaceable he is.

***

Instead, I’ll touch his lips with mine

and steady myself in the arms of a man

who is satisfied with my simple existence.

To My Babies

You are a new bloom in our family garden,

too little to…

View original post 1,257 more words

The Smell of Sorrow

Sometimes, we hold plans
with such great importance
that when they become derailed,
our mindsets are not as tough
as we assume,
no, not as tough as spider silk –
they spiral into grottos of gloom
where we keep company
with a suitcase of insecurity.

Indulging in comfort that doesn’t
judge or bicker occurs effortlessly.
The smell of sorrow is overwhelming.

But despite the absence of light,
the sunrise slowly unfolds,
brushstrokes of vivid oranges
illuminate the sky
like a painter brightens a new canvas,
and the experience feels feather-light
as though a burden is lifted.

Our fascination is stirred once again
by a hummingbird’s ability to fly
forward and backwards, sideways,
and even upside down. We hear the
sparrows singing their tales,
and bees buzzing in jubilation.

Sensing the spiritual presence of hope,
we exhale with relief, and we are optimistic
for an extended stay.

Lauren Scott (c) 2021

Photo: sunrise from an early-morning walk

October’s Miracle

I forgot how the sound of rain could be soothing
like the calm of a child’s lullaby.
I heard my lantana sing “Hallelujah!” as the soil exhaled,
the thirst for relief felt longer than eternity.
Silk-thread drizzles dusted rooftops on the street
along with the brown brittle hills with flowing grace.
The fascination of puddles slipped my mind,
the childlike sense of play from a hop and a splash.
And who would think the sight of cocoa-brown mud
could be so entertaining in all its messiness!
Would you believe if I said the flowers smiled at me?
And their leaves offered a gentle wave?
Observing from my slightly opened window,
I caught a grateful sigh from the soaked earth,
and I enjoyed listening to the roots laugh in delight.

Lauren Scott (c) 2021

Waiting to Exhale

The calendar showed October 4th, 2012. She and I sat in the sterile office surrounded by semi-gloss light blue walls, our hearts thumping, hands like ice. We waited for the man who wore a white coat to join us, hoping he would provide gentle answers to appease our questions.

The matter was serious, but when I first saw his face, I thought of Santa, stark white hair and fluffy beard, red, rosy cheeks good for pinching. The only thing missing was the apple red hat, and though he would bear dreadful news, his smile was welcoming, as if the three of us were meeting for a stroll in the park on a lovely spring afternoon.

It was amazing how a tiny scope could be guided through the mouth and throat then down the esophagus. CT scans, lab work, MRIs, and a needle too long to discuss occupied her hours for over 1,000 days. Still, we craved clarity. Our world was hazy like thick fog a driver would endure crossing the Golden Gate Bridge during summer in the wee hours of the morning.
And we waited – a necessary evil that all people grapple with too often to count the times on their hands.

Then on that autumn day came words we would have liked to have hurled back to Santa. We had hoped for gentle. Instead…
“All tests point to this auto immune disease, and there is no cause or cure,” he told us with a touch of remorse. The future would necessitate a transplant. It was not cancer, but this finding should not be shunned. She was twenty years old, like a sunflower of friendliness and optimism. He added, “Just live your life.”

I felt her physical pain rip through each atrium and ventricle – my most excruciating moments of being a parent. But her strength embraced and consoled me, her mother, of all things.
Life pulled us through each season.

The calendar now presents the year 2021: She is a lovely, young woman – a wedding band adorns her left ring finger, and geography has changed along with a new insurance card. She meets with another man who wears a similar white coat. X-rays and jabs repeat. “All of your tests are normal,” he affirms. All is normal. Words we had hoped to hear from this new expert.
“I don’t see a reason to keep you in the same box,” he confirms.

This is amazing news! But abdominal stabs and pruritus from the past were as tangible as a twisted knife to the gut. How can we negate that agony? What is the deeper meaning? Should we get the champagne flutes out, give them a quick wash? Has this nightmare finally ended? She chooses to live in the here and now.
Life continues to draw us forward to witness each sunrise and sunset,
although we are still waiting to exhale.

Lauren Scott (c) 2021

Nature Succeeds Again!

On Labor Day, my husband and I wanted to escape the heat, so we drove into West Marin to pick up sandwiches at our special deli. Then we headed for Taylor Park to picnic among the Redwoods where the air would feel a little more welcoming. We savored those delicious sandwiches to the last bite, chatted about life, read for a bit, then we strolled through the park, enjoying the sights and sounds. I hope you’ll join me as I reminisce…

Looking up to the majestic Redwoods
from our picnic table.
A view of the park.
In the late 1800’s, this park was known as the resort,
“Camp Taylor.”
The old fish pond.
Time to cool off in the creek!
Be on the lookout!
Don’t be fooled by the gorgeous fall colors.
Poison Oak is toxic to humans, causing a
very itchy rash.
The old outdoor theatre. “Welcome, Everyone. Today
we’ll learn about the nighttime animals that wander
through the resort.”
On the trail again!
Anybody home?
The soft-looking texture of ferns.

And now I will leave you with this beautiful poem of mindfulness by Kaveri Patel:

Dear You,

You who always have
so many things to do
so many places to be
your mind spinning like
fan blades at high speed
each moment always a blur
because you’re never still.

I know you’re tired.
I also know it’s not your fault.
The constant brain-buzz is like
a swarm of bees threatening
to sting if you close your eyes.
You’ve forgotten something again.
You need to prepare for that or else.
You should have done that differently.


What if you closed your eyes?
Would the world fall
apart without you?
Or would your mind
become the open sky
flock of thoughts
flying across the sunrise
as you just watched and smiled.


Spending time in this tranquil park made us pause. We listened to birds chirping, children laughing, and the soothing babbles of the creek. I invite you to ponder these words of Kaveri Patel.
Will you allow yourself to simply watch and smile? I will certainly try…

Thanks for stopping by and stay well!
~Lauren ❤️

https://www.wisdominwaves.com/about.html
More information about Kaveri Patel.

Cause to Celebrate

I stroll in the yard,
dry as an arid desert.
Drought drains most of life,
but they persevere, soaking
up occasional showers
.

Follow their guidance,
no surrendering,
joy imparts effortlessly.
Even through difficulties
cause to celebrate sweeps in.


So much is happening in the world to feed anxiety. But there is also cause to feel the joy that nature offers and to learn from her messages. And the desire to celebrate always sweeps its way into our lives to help keep our minds balanced in order to move forward.
For my husband and I, today we celebrate our beautiful daughter’s 30th birthday. 💞
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend, and one filled with joy and Cause to Celebrate!

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️💜❤️