Vincent Lowry's Blog - Posts Tagged "2013"
Kids on Ice
The birthday party was for
a six-year-old,
a best friend of my son.
Awkward were the blades
on our feet:
thin knives supporting
the whole of our weight.
And the ice would be as
forgiving as concrete
said a man in front of me
before I stepped into the rink.
My son hugged the wall
while I ventured into
a crowd much more accustomed
to the sport I was attempting.
But I soon got a better
feel for my skates,
and so too did my boy,
leaving the wall's embrace
to join the circling children.
It made me a kid again,
watching him smile
and laugh and fall.
It was his first time.
And I was most proud that
he was giving it his all,
that he was braving the unknown
and opening his mind to learning.
He taught me life's purest lesson:
Always try. Always.
(C) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
a six-year-old,
a best friend of my son.
Awkward were the blades
on our feet:
thin knives supporting
the whole of our weight.
And the ice would be as
forgiving as concrete
said a man in front of me
before I stepped into the rink.
My son hugged the wall
while I ventured into
a crowd much more accustomed
to the sport I was attempting.
But I soon got a better
feel for my skates,
and so too did my boy,
leaving the wall's embrace
to join the circling children.
It made me a kid again,
watching him smile
and laugh and fall.
It was his first time.
And I was most proud that
he was giving it his all,
that he was braving the unknown
and opening his mind to learning.
He taught me life's purest lesson:
Always try. Always.
(C) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
On Love
Remember that love never dies.
It is only born.
That is the key difference between it and hate.
It is only born.
That is the key difference between it and hate.
On Limbo
I imagine the first limbo
party was pretty rough.
First there was the party itself,
dull enough for someone to say,
"Hey, grab that stick over there
and let's put it to action."
Then there was the act of
going under the stick itself.
It likely started off with people
simply ducking under it,
saying how the game was too
easy and stupid.
But person who grabbed that stick
got mad and said, "Yeah? Well
try going under it face up, buddy."
No longer was it easy.
But the stupidness was never really fixed.
party was pretty rough.
First there was the party itself,
dull enough for someone to say,
"Hey, grab that stick over there
and let's put it to action."
Then there was the act of
going under the stick itself.
It likely started off with people
simply ducking under it,
saying how the game was too
easy and stupid.
But person who grabbed that stick
got mad and said, "Yeah? Well
try going under it face up, buddy."
No longer was it easy.
But the stupidness was never really fixed.
Your Love
I want you to know
I see it everywhere,
in the steam rising from the sautéed potatoes
you place upon our family table,
in the early morning hair combings
you give the children well before
your work hour.
And let these lines spill
the secret that I feel it even greater,
as more dawns are stacked ever higher,
and the seasons fill our union
with beauty and grace unrivaled.
Colors fade in your absense,
so stay in my sight always,
and let me continue to marvel
the luck that defined my journey.
I see it everywhere,
in the steam rising from the sautéed potatoes
you place upon our family table,
in the early morning hair combings
you give the children well before
your work hour.
And let these lines spill
the secret that I feel it even greater,
as more dawns are stacked ever higher,
and the seasons fill our union
with beauty and grace unrivaled.
Colors fade in your absense,
so stay in my sight always,
and let me continue to marvel
the luck that defined my journey.
One
Stay near.
Let our hearts be on the same journey.
May the world’s wonders
cascade before our eyes in a shared moment,
lifting our spirits upon a common wing.
Find me.
If ever I am lost,
and the line of our bond appears severed,
gaze up and discover a billion guiding stars
pointing the path of a love that cannot fracture.
Reach out.
Light may blind,
darkness often conceals,
but stretch your hand in any hour of need
and find my touch.
Hold tight.
Time’s gales bend all.
Lock our souls arm in arm,
and cast away any thoughts
that what lies beyond shall find us apart.
(c) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
Let our hearts be on the same journey.
May the world’s wonders
cascade before our eyes in a shared moment,
lifting our spirits upon a common wing.
Find me.
If ever I am lost,
and the line of our bond appears severed,
gaze up and discover a billion guiding stars
pointing the path of a love that cannot fracture.
Reach out.
Light may blind,
darkness often conceals,
but stretch your hand in any hour of need
and find my touch.
Hold tight.
Time’s gales bend all.
Lock our souls arm in arm,
and cast away any thoughts
that what lies beyond shall find us apart.
(c) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
Peace
Within a peace blossoms
In colors beyond compare,
And in beams of love radiating through
every crack of our core.
It demands the swiftest of action.
In colors beyond compare,
And in beams of love radiating through
every crack of our core.
It demands the swiftest of action.
Surfing the Seconds
Rare are the moments
when we recognize
the doors that silently
seal off one stage of our life
and usher us into another.
They creep up on us,
these “last” experiences:
the push of a growing toddler
on a swing; the hug of an
aged loved one at a party.
If we are lucky enough
to wedge our foot in the door’s path
and savor the final moment
before it has perished,
aren’t we only intensifying the ache
that always trails time’s journey?
“Say goodbye to the house, honey,”
or, to really feel it,
“You better talk to your mother now.
She won’t make it through the night.”
What words can we offer at that hour?
What time capsule is available
to trap all the golden nuggets
of goodness, of dignity, of love
for us to share later on?
For isn’t that what we really want?
To show an understanding soul
the beauty of what was experienced,
the memory of what was once loved?
But perhaps a part of it is selfishness.
The joy is simply to surf the seconds
that pass, dipping our hands in the cool water,
and close our mind
to the thoughts that often
distract us at all hours.
We scream: this is life; live the moment before it is lost.
(c) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
when we recognize
the doors that silently
seal off one stage of our life
and usher us into another.
They creep up on us,
these “last” experiences:
the push of a growing toddler
on a swing; the hug of an
aged loved one at a party.
If we are lucky enough
to wedge our foot in the door’s path
and savor the final moment
before it has perished,
aren’t we only intensifying the ache
that always trails time’s journey?
“Say goodbye to the house, honey,”
or, to really feel it,
“You better talk to your mother now.
She won’t make it through the night.”
What words can we offer at that hour?
What time capsule is available
to trap all the golden nuggets
of goodness, of dignity, of love
for us to share later on?
For isn’t that what we really want?
To show an understanding soul
the beauty of what was experienced,
the memory of what was once loved?
But perhaps a part of it is selfishness.
The joy is simply to surf the seconds
that pass, dipping our hands in the cool water,
and close our mind
to the thoughts that often
distract us at all hours.
We scream: this is life; live the moment before it is lost.
(c) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
Shine, Beautiful Traveler
We know not where you came,
or where you’ll arrive when
the stars reveal their timeless secrets,
but we are certain your
spirit is bound for greatness
in the eyes of this world.
Bury the thoughts
and ignore the flaws
that tell you otherwise.
Accept what you have
as fate’s special gift
to shine in your passions.
Tether your carriage to your heart,
lock your mind to present,
and find the road that whispers your name.
The time is now,
beautiful traveler.
Seize the dream.
(c) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
or where you’ll arrive when
the stars reveal their timeless secrets,
but we are certain your
spirit is bound for greatness
in the eyes of this world.
Bury the thoughts
and ignore the flaws
that tell you otherwise.
Accept what you have
as fate’s special gift
to shine in your passions.
Tether your carriage to your heart,
lock your mind to present,
and find the road that whispers your name.
The time is now,
beautiful traveler.
Seize the dream.
(c) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
She Loved Us
For Mother's Day :)
She Loved Us
Let a thousand knights raise their swords,
and may the kings of all lands now kneel,
for we are turning poetry's eye on the woman
who poured life into our veins.
She loved us unseen.
A hand rested on her belly
long before light bathed our face,
and that simple touch was one of countless
gestures to show her maternal magic.
She loved us unheard.
Asleep in the cradle,
we never saw her hovering above,
a guardian of our health,
a gatekeeper of our raising.
She loved us standing.
Bruised elbows and knees
led to a whirl of footsteps
in the house she kept,
our timeless childhood castle of wonder.
She loved us tall.
Our bones stretched
in her embrace
as moons chased suns,
and dreams sprouted in youth's garden.
She loved us off.
Other kingdoms beckoned,
and she stood aside to watch
our wings spread
toward the journey on the horizon.
She loved us together.
New lungs were filled
in a new castle of wonder,
and one mother joined another
in a circle as strong as steel.
She loved us eternal.
She stays with us and never parts.
We feel her in the stars that wink at night,
in the breezes that thread our home,
in the gatherings we share as a family.
We love her forevermore.
(C) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
She Loved Us
Let a thousand knights raise their swords,
and may the kings of all lands now kneel,
for we are turning poetry's eye on the woman
who poured life into our veins.
She loved us unseen.
A hand rested on her belly
long before light bathed our face,
and that simple touch was one of countless
gestures to show her maternal magic.
She loved us unheard.
Asleep in the cradle,
we never saw her hovering above,
a guardian of our health,
a gatekeeper of our raising.
She loved us standing.
Bruised elbows and knees
led to a whirl of footsteps
in the house she kept,
our timeless childhood castle of wonder.
She loved us tall.
Our bones stretched
in her embrace
as moons chased suns,
and dreams sprouted in youth's garden.
She loved us off.
Other kingdoms beckoned,
and she stood aside to watch
our wings spread
toward the journey on the horizon.
She loved us together.
New lungs were filled
in a new castle of wonder,
and one mother joined another
in a circle as strong as steel.
She loved us eternal.
She stays with us and never parts.
We feel her in the stars that wink at night,
in the breezes that thread our home,
in the gatherings we share as a family.
We love her forevermore.
(C) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
Sax on the Summit
Our spirits linked some 7,000 feet,
the edge of the world,
nature’s mountain of harmony.
A safety railing
stood as a reminder
of society’s rules,
of laws that had
carved this land
and sold its beauty.
Without hesitation,
over the rail he went,
saxophone in hand,
heart on lips.
When music poured forth
and filled my core with courage,
I followed his journey
to experience how this summit
once looked untouched.
The wind hit my face anew,
crisp and pure as a winter stream.
I saw the mist on the hills,
a white veil over waves of trees
and wildlife too exotic for
my limited mind to picture.
And the sun.
My goodness, the sun…
An orange ball perched
on the horizon
as if it were a surreal star
from worlds beyond,
somehow looking both unfamiliar
and magnificent in a shared moment.
How could I have not known about
this beauty before?
What railings have I hidden behind?
What rules have I blindly followed?
The man with the sax has no answers,
only music of the soul,
“Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
If you would like to see the picture I captured of this scene, please visit this link: http://vincentlowry.zenfolio.com/p791...
Poem and photo (c) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
the edge of the world,
nature’s mountain of harmony.
A safety railing
stood as a reminder
of society’s rules,
of laws that had
carved this land
and sold its beauty.
Without hesitation,
over the rail he went,
saxophone in hand,
heart on lips.
When music poured forth
and filled my core with courage,
I followed his journey
to experience how this summit
once looked untouched.
The wind hit my face anew,
crisp and pure as a winter stream.
I saw the mist on the hills,
a white veil over waves of trees
and wildlife too exotic for
my limited mind to picture.
And the sun.
My goodness, the sun…
An orange ball perched
on the horizon
as if it were a surreal star
from worlds beyond,
somehow looking both unfamiliar
and magnificent in a shared moment.
How could I have not known about
this beauty before?
What railings have I hidden behind?
What rules have I blindly followed?
The man with the sax has no answers,
only music of the soul,
“Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
If you would like to see the picture I captured of this scene, please visit this link: http://vincentlowry.zenfolio.com/p791...
Poem and photo (c) 2013 by Vincent Lowry
