Poppy Fields

A poet writing blogs can't be a really good thing.  And truly it's not...  This is your chance to stop reading and use your time in a more beneficial way.  But if you stay and continue to read, you might start wondering if I am actually going to tell a real story or just wander off.  You guessed it right...  I will tell a story, while wandering off...

This story is more like therapy writing to me, it has little value to anyone else.

It all happened in the day of yesterday, which happened to be one of "those days", yet still a day that the Lord has made, most likely to teach me that overcoming yesterday frees my heart for tomorrow...

Yesterday was like someone throwing a thousand balls at you at once, and after the hundredth one, you start to not play so well anymore.  One of the days you feel it would never end, yet the time was against you too, somehow.

An army of boys, or so it seemed, playing water guns in my garage and taking my car as a prisoner of war :), every possible liquid spilled, cleaning kitchen and scrubbing floors at 10 pm, which is actually not quite out of the ordinary for us, STAY at home moms, but nonetheless adding an extra touch to the nice drama of the day.

And on and on...

I stood still a few times, in the middle of yesterday, with tears in my eyes, and did nothing, thought nothing... like a weeping rock in the storm, waiting for it to pass...

And after an eternity of gathering mishaps, yesterday ended.  I listened to music before falling asleep, song after song, melting the rock, taking form after form...  And as I entered the dreams, I knew tomorrow's sunshine would feel so much more renewed.

Today I'm wearing perfume and a skirt, and my hair has dried in the sun kissed morning wind.

Melted, I smile, as I walk in my land of poppy fields.  Today is smiling back.

Self

I'm ancient
With spring undertones,
I shine a pretty armour
Around the edge of my soul.

I fly the sparkles
Of a sunshine heart,
Broken,
Rebuilt and reclaimed,
Yet still beating hard.

Emerald lakes
Stretch in the shape of my eyes,
While paradise birds
Whisper asleep lullabies.

Words crush
In the waves of my hair,
Blue songs are still waiting
In the far hemisphere.

Topaz seas rest
In quiet afternoon charms,
Sipping tea,
While stormy seagulls fly
At the end of my arms.

I hold stars,
As I dance the night,
I stretch horizons
As I invite the dawn.


Copyright 2011 Cristina Miller.

Holding The Rain

I'll hold the rain Close to my temple today, Like a seashell of time Turned upside down, Like a trail of scented dreams, Grown and falling From my sapphire gown.    I'll hold your hand Close to my heart today, To hear the waves of the ocean I'm facing, To guide my thoughts Through the starless nights I'm chasing Away... I'll hold the rain In the palms of my hands And yours She'll tell us stories Of valleys and heights With crystal voices And magical wondrous sights    We'll sit by the ocean, Gathering stars, And ripen dreams, one by one, Counting the waves, And turning the time With seashells arms, And nights sublime,  Holding the rain Upside down.  ©  Copyright 2011 Cristina Miller

Clouds Over Mountains

Misty clouds hovering above

Our mountains of dreams,

Untouched and calling...

I climb, holding Your hand,

Tight, in the rain...
Knowing Your sun shines
Above my cloudy day.
I rest in Your arms,
Breathing in the kingdom
Where beauty is queen.


© Copyright 2011 Cristina Miller

The Beginning And The End

Yesterday I met two beautiful souls.  One was a perfect 5 week old baby girl, I had the privilege to hold and marvel at.

And the other one a glorious 90 year old lady, with dreams as big as the sky, a pretty smile and sparkles still in her eyes. 

She told me her life story, like all old people love to do, we laughed, we exchanged some melodies from our hearts, and in the end, she prepared her walker and stood up as straight as she could, still smiling, still carrying the dreams in her heart.  She looked at me and said: "It's time for my supper now, but it was very nice visiting with you..."

And as she started walking slowly, one step at a time, I realized she was once like the baby girl I had held in my arms.  Yet a little forgotten now...

The Rainbow Is Near

Sadness is like walking through an empty field on a moonless night.  The steps follow one another like the hands of a quiet clock, measuring a time that goes on without you.

Suddenly, a beautiful city appears on the horizon, with bright lights and tall buildings reaching for the sky.  Vibrant music and cheerful sounds dissipate as they come closer to your ground.  You stop and observe the city from a distance.  It would be nice... but your path doesn't go there.  Your field stretches and stretches until it becomes the foot of a mountain, well known, already climbed before.

Still night.  Still dark all around.

And as you're following the path down the mountain, through forests and resting by the rushing rivers, you see the dawn approaching, and feel your heart growing inside, while the Lord is washing your tears with His.  

You walk in the rain, knowing the rainbow is near. 

Mother's Day

Children came and showered my Mother's Day with their sweet smiles. They gave me tight hugs from tiny arms and big hearts, and cards made out of construction paper and funny drawings...

And it felt wonderful and rewarding, one of the greatest gifts I could've ever wished for...  Motherhood teaches so many things, some we had never even envisioned before becoming mothers.  We learn to grow and how to be kids again. Motherhood exalts us and drives us down to our knees. It shines the sun in our hearts. And it loses count of sleepless nights with tiny infants in our arms. 

And yet... 

 

As I rejoice at being a mother, I think of all the beautiful women who never had the privilege to become one.  And suddenly I feel loud, inconsiderate and selfish in a way.  I wonder about the women who could be wonderful mothers...

...women with hearts of gold, women who hope...

...women who wait and find strength in their hope...

...women who love and make a difference in other people's lives.

 

 

I hold a sun ray in my hand, and funny colored cards, with simple drawings of clinging tightly to a shining heart.

And I give them all to you, the beautiful women much stronger than me!

My Flower

You brighten my days

With your beautiful smile,

You guide my heart
And hold me in your arms.

You are the rain
When my tears are dry,
You stand in the storm
And promise the sun.

You gave a part of you
So I can be,

Through you,

Alive.

You were by my side
During sleepless nights,

And chased away fear

With the touch of your hand.

You gathered my dreams

In your beautiful eyes,

You sheltered my path,
So that through you,
I can thrive.

And, as the deepest oceans
Stretch their wings
Between us,

And time and stars

Fall faster

Through your hourglass, still bright,

My love is near,

For you will always be

The blooming flower

In my heart.

Copyright 2011 Cristina Miller

Wonderfully busy

As I run in circle, chasing the same things over and over, while pausing for a split second to make sure the air still surrounds me and the earth still anchors my soul.

 I exist. 

   I function.

      I do my part. 

        I am like everyone else, keeping busy, while time rushes by...  Sometimes we have a race, but often times I fall behind, on my knees, on the green grass of life's meadows, sheltered under mighty trees, with eyes and thoughts floating from cloud to cloud.  Dreaming that one day I'll make the impossible possible, while still being humanly frail.  Dreaming that one day I'll wake up and be awesome...
 And, as I fall softly from night into morning, I dream to still find clouds in my pocket and feel the sunshine of Your Word.