Sometimes when you’re sandwiched between crises
and you’re going through it without your mother,
you just need to come out and play a little polo,
find your balance with some red clover.
Maybe slip your laptop into the red case
and head to some sweet spot that sells veggies
with a little turkey. Because that’s how you roll
when you contain multitudes
and you need to take a stanza break,
and breathe,
maybe write a book.
But because today’s your birthday and you are the gift,
we’re going to chase some pickups and pick up some pieces.
So you just have to sing along and remind yourself that
still. still. still.
it’s all going to be okay.
A quickly pieced poem found in Megan’s latest blog posts… with a few additions of my own words. Love you, friend. And happy birthday.
Still yet singing,
Sandy
Oh, Sandy! Thank you!!! I love how you made a found poem from snippets of my posts, even including Polo and Clover (who are asleep at the moment). You are such a treasure to me.
take care.
love, Megan
Sandy, that is pure delight! Love! Love! Love!
Oh MY! What FUNtastic-ness you’ve created here for miss Megan.
BLessings.
Sandy this is wonderful! I loved recognizing Megan’s words and stories here in your poetic form.
Oh, too cool! What a great idea – and a great execution, too. Thanks, Sandy.
Sigh. This makes me miss y’all…in a “longing for you with the love of Christ” way.