Rush of turbulent waves
overtake the sandy bits
I am a mere grain
hidden in the drifts
One who sees beyond
how does He know
the deeps where I lay
His love never shifts
for treasure digging deep
it’s hard for us to grasp
open empty hands
filled with love at last
Photo: “Art in the Sand” ©moondustdesigns 2019
a grey- haired journey
we often stub our toes
rattle our mind for memories
caregiver regular in tow
treasures we seek
but little do we find
into a treasure filled mind
seasons change as you age
digging up treasure
Look into the mind of the elderly there are vast discoveries. Sometimes there is a thin veil covering the expanse. It is worth the effort.
More than forty years ago,I took care of my first Alzheimer’s patient. Back then we called a patient confused. The trade marks were the same: little by little the mind ebbs and the memory recedes.
I have learned much as I have looked through the window of an elderly person’s life. There is a store house of information, experience, history that is so close. My challenge as a caregiver is to find the key that unlocks the treasure chest.
By the time I enter a client’s life, they have “lost” quite a bit of memory. But there is always some treasure if I am patient. “Patient” is the operative word – I cannot have an agenda, be pushy or in a big hurry.
Mary loves children and she most often sets the tone for the conversation. Her years of experience as a school teacher are like gold for me as my other life is teaching African children. It is a joy to hear children in the background of her life.
Today- I grasped at another treasure – we look good in the same colors. She chose several outfits that would look good on either of us. Last week we had a pillow fight and got into a fit of laughter. She asked me a puzzle of a question; I asked her one in return.
Each day we find what we can do not what we can’t do and it works.
I am not inferring that caring for a person with Alzheimer’s is easy – It is Not! As the wave recedes, I am sorrowful for the yesterdays that are lost. But my hand is going to clasp hers and be grateful that there are more days filled with treasure if I am ready to hunt for it.
Tide is fading
wind thrashes each memory
deep blue sea
Goodness in those eyes
kindness in his smile
little fingers wrap in mine
never want to let go
God is the maker
children such a gift
may actions always match
the love I feel inside
I am always disturbed when I hear of children who are cast-offs. Our world has grown careless with its real treasures. We would never throw away gold, but these little ones are much more precious than any gem.
I am grateful that there are those in the world who have hearts willing to pour their love into a heart and rekindle precious smiles.
“He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them.
And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.
“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.'”
memories of feet caressing sand
beaches and piers, a quest
chasing shore birds
digging for treasure
building castles in shared dreams
sun shines too bright in my eyes
you walk with another
The word “nostalgia” comes from two Greek roots, nostos meaning ‘return home’ and algia ‘longing’. However neither poetry nor politics birthed the term, rather it came from ‘medicine’. In the seventeenth century nostalgia was considered as a curable disease, like a common cold.
Nostalgia is a longing for a Place as well as for a Time.
Sharing with Poets United – the theme this week Nostalgia.
Looking for fish
sea’s immeasurable depth
The WordPress Prompt for today is Depth
What do you think Winslow Homer’s subjects are looking for?
where did you leave your treasure
I asked of stormy sky
the tide is quick receding
it will retreat and hide
where did you hide the treasure
beneath a shell or brook
I cannot deep go wading
or wet will be my book
where did you leave my treasure
I look into moon’s eye
a blushing smile revealing
and wearing a disguise
where did you leave your treasure
I hasten now to look
before the sea comes surging
I’ll drown while being o’ertook
Where did you leave your treasure???