Castanets

On November 16, 2021November 16, 2021 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry41 Comments

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.

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

On November 13, 2021 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry29 Comments

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

On November 3, 2021November 3, 2021 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry63 Comments

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.

Photo: sunrise from an early-morning walk

October’s Miracle

On October 25, 2021October 25, 2021 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry59 Comments

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.

Waiting to Exhale

On October 19, 2021 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry, Writing44 Comments

The calendar showed October 4^th, 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.

Nature Succeeds Again!

On September 8, 2021 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Nature, Poetry60 Comments

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.**

**In the late 1800’s, this park was known as the resort**,
**“Camp Taylor.”**

**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.”

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

On September 3, 2021September 3, 2021 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry67 Comments

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) ❤️💜❤️

Rocking with Love

On August 23, 2021August 22, 2021 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry43 Comments

Built with tender hands
and love for his daughter,
she happily rocked through
childhood. Then with tiny fingers
wrapped around books, they
rocked like her – smiles spreading
across their soft cheeks.
Adorable animals enhanced
the white finish – charm never
to be erased. As memories
of her father flooded her mind
like a scrapbook of Polaroids,
Grandma watched her grandchildren
with a full heart, for that special rocker
embraced new generations
with the gentlest rhythm of love.