cronechronicler

You don't know where you are going. You don't know how to get there. And you arrive just the same. Ghanaian saying

Haiku: RX For An Introvert

Holidays over
Return of reality
Time for stock-taking

People-filled moments
Exciting rich nourishment
Stuffed me to bursting

Moorings abandoned
Flying carpet crash-landed
Lost touch with myself

Crave balm of silence
Time for quiet introspection
Awaiting my words

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Haiku: Holiday Confession

Holiday hustle
Dawn to dusk rich commotion
Signs of the season

Good food and shopping
Joy of friends and loved ones
Bright lights on the tree

Lovely potpourri
Overpowers my poet
She’s hibernating

Poet will awake
When dark depths of winter come
And stillness returns

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Choice Living

Most days I eat lunch at my kitchen table accompanied by music on my old JVC boom box and the New York Times obituaries. The obituaries tell me stories of well-known people and some I have never heard of. I learn a lot about life and history. The obituaries do not make me sad.

My boom box has room for two tapes and three CD’s, many of which my son created for me. Usually I play jazz, Cole Porter, Chet Baker and rock and roll. Today I played Tchaikovsky’s Symphony Number 5. It always takes me back to a particular evening. The Conductor of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra led this symphony as part of his desire to take classical music to people on the South-side of Chicago who had rarely been exposed to it. It was held in the magnificent Sanctuary of an old church. The diverse audience was spellbound by the beauty and accessibility of the music. My former husband and I were one of those enchanted people.

Listening to this music makes me sad. It is not grieving a loss but is yearning for something that never was. I chose to depart this marriage and settle myself close to my children. I am alone. I never expected to be. There is an empty place that a partner might have inhabited.

I get up from my kitchen table and take my single plate and mug to the sink. I remember the joy and peace of the solitary life which I have chosen, inhabiting an apartment just the right size for one. I am happy.

Written in response to the Daily Prompt:Prefer

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Haiku: Good Morning, Wednesday

Candle light flickers
Empty coffee cup still warm
Meditation done

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Haiku: Winter Solitude

Rich days to prepare
Hustle bustle, shop and cook
Join in festive meal

Christmas now is past
Gift to savor candle light
Settle into calm

Written in response to daily prompt Retreat

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Passing Strangers

On a sunny day in Mexico
Sitting on a high stool at a high table
Eating a delicious morsel, savoring solitude
I noticed a man walking toward me
Vintage-aged and lost in thought.

Lazily I noted his white t-shirt
Imprinted with an Indian in a feathered head-dress
Cleveland I immediately concluded
Then corrected myself
Chicago Black Hawks! Aha! I was a hockey mom.

The gentleman passed by
I spoke quietly “Go Black Hawks”
He looked at me, blue eyes now focused
Responding in kind, “Go Black Hawks”
He smiled, said “Thank you” and moved on.

The sunny day in Mexico
A beam of human interaction
Warmed my soul I feel it still.
I pray our fractured world
Will be surprised to recognize such commonality.

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Apricot Days

Now is my favorite time of Autumn
Apricot leaves glow in cool days soft sunlight
Mellow like pumpkin-spice latte
Delicious they warm me
I’m happy to linger and live in the now.

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Haiku: Sound Interpretations

Silence place I choose
Window open wide to world
Transports mind and heart.

Absent friendly noise
Hall outside apartment door
Quiet becomes a cage.

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Space Odyssey

An August visit with my two sisters and brother was another step on my path homeward. We are all in our seventies and decided it was time we got together by ourselves – no children or grandchildren. It was a revelation hearing old family stories told from new perspectives as we shared memories. It was a loving and fun occasion. We began laying a foundation for sharing our remaining years as we had shared our early ones. And then I returned home. I turned the key in the door of my apartment and was instantly enveloped by my dearest, splendidly solitary space. I finally get it!

For some time now my life has been unfolding in its pattern of rich family moments followed by returning home to  the priceless gift of solitude. I’ve sought warmth in two marriages that ended in divorce. I’ve found warmth in the shared love of three generations of my family.  I would be bereft without them. I am surrounded by good neighbors. I am blessed that my small apartment contains just enough of worldly things for me and the promise of time to write. My computer transports me to blogland. From there I roam the universe of words. My imagination takes wing. I fly with a new name on my passport. I journey deep inside myself and locate my soul in my writing. I am fed by others reading my words and understanding the feelings  embedded there. My “now I get it moment” is a long time coming. It has been a good journey home.

Written response to Dungeon Prompts: That “Now I get it moment”

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Chronicle of Solitude

I was born a Southern girl
Into a story-telling culture.
A budding Southern woman
Meeting expectations of the times.
I excelled at both.

But something more lurked beneath that child
True to myself and unknown.
My parents told me there were times
I turned my little rocking chair
To face the wall. Mama said “Leave her there.”

Did something peek beyond compliant self?
There must have been a hint of poetry to come
From solitude that is my homeland
And my second mother – recognized by Mama’s loving heart.
Who did entrust me to my future gift.

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