Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

All About Making Waves

MYSTERY CYCLE
V. Making Waves

                   for Emily and Ian and their Dad – 20 October 2000

It’s your turn,
a heavenly voice said,
then a tremendous tickle ran out through the clouds,
followed by jiggling rolls escaping into snickers,
and pealing positively gales on gales of giggles
until, finally, there wasn’t anything for it,
and the clouds burst into laughter,
what you call rain.

Drop upon drop,
from small to large, both young and old,
they all fell down akimbo,
tumbling from the sky,
collecting, drunkenly you might say,
in puddles to pools to rivulets to streams,
finally running like great silver ribbons to the sea.

I can’t remember,
One asked an-Other, still giggling the tickle,
I say, what was the joke?
but Any-one would have been too wet to answer,
though really No-one heard clearly enough to say,
and Every-one was wondering what would happen next,
so, if there was a reply, who could say if it was made,
and whether by Which-one,
or not?

But Some-one was able to hold the thought long enough
and, floating up through the lovely bubbles to the surface,
called out to friend Sky for the answer.

A, Darling, did they not tell you long ago?
It’s your turn to have fun!

They gather you all up into their arms,
lulling you with sweetest windsongs
from all the Four Corners of existence,
and when it is your time,
they shake you loose
to join the great throng,
so you can be free.

But what shall we do?
asked the littlest drop.

Moon shimmered a silken answer:
Dearest, anything you do will make me smile,
but why don’t you make me some waves?

So, laughing and shoving all the more,
fumbling and recklessly tumbling,
all heels over heads toward the shores
and to the utter delight of all,
they did.

Reprinted from
“Songs of A Soul Journey” by Elisabeth T. Eliassen © 2002 all rights reserved.


It has been a rainy year, and so, on this anniversary of the birth of my twins, Emily and Ian, I bring you the message that life is wild, wet, wooly, weird and wonderful. Punctuated by hard times, yes; but even so, still the best game in town.

I, who declared at the age of 12 or so that I would never have children, gave birth to twins on this day, 17 years ago -- which is to say that one can make all the bold pronouncements one likes, but the cosmos has other ideas... 

From wombmates to roommates to housemates, they have shared so much with us and each other… 

So, to Emily and Ian, (and to all of you) I say:


Keep jiggling the rolls and giggling the tickles, 
because it’s your turn to have fun;
it's all about making waves!

~ love,
Mom

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Sea Swings


Gravity weighs;
whether from weight 
of losses, resulting
in masses,
or the forces
that must be exerted
carrying the daily load,
gravity weighs.

Have a seat!
Let your feet dangle,
Hang like a puppet suspended,
and Take a load off,

While the column rises
to meet the leeward breeze,
and we wait with anticipation.

Slowly, even as we rise,
the rotation begins,
and our feet swish
through the bracing air.

The column head tilts rakishly,
as we fly through the air;
gulls sail by, looking us in the eye,
and we sail with them.

As we rise up,
all our thoughts,
our hearts and delights
come along for the ride.

Together, all rise
in shared boundlessness,
until the ride subsides.

Gravity weighs less
when centripetal force
unites us centrally
in moving straight ahead.

Gravity weighs less,
and tension, too,
when they can make us fly,
and do.


© 2015 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Monday, January 14, 2013

Weekend Away

         12 January 2013, 2:30-5:00pm
           Girl Scouts of Northern California Kicked Back Weekend,
           Camp Bothin, West Marin

Into the car,
heading down the road,
we ride into the darkness of night,

Arriving at road’s end.
There, in the middle of nowhere,
we can pretend.

Whether to stay up or sleep?
Hmmm, the company we keep
rarely goes without a peep.

Then, up comes the sun,
stirring sleepy heads,
first to breakfast, then onward to fun

And games, with knowledge braided,
from one to another are passed:
flames to rekindle lights faded.

Soon, dinner and pageant shared,
songs and dances done, and
hijinks, too, as far as can be dared.

Day well done gives way to dreams purled.
We’ll wake once more, to buns and kapers,
friendship circle and flag furled,

Thence back to car,
to road and to the weary world,
returning to places near from far.

“Here, always!” the birds cry,
above motors’ hum and churn,
as all about us they flutter and fly
—for they know that we’ll return.

© 2013 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen