Thank you, Pure Haiku!

Once again, one of my haiku is featured on Pure Haiku:

Thank you for sharing my words!


Pure Haiku

Thanks to Pure Haiku for choosing a couple of my poems to post for the “Care” series.

Child’s disappointment when she learns that a flower wilts without water © Rebecca Trimble-Paul 2017 Rebecca says of herself “I am moved by nature, I write mindfully, and find endless inspiration in the world and people around me.” Please check out her blog at Thinking Of Now This senyru shows such a clear picture of the […]

via 1 – 26 — purehaiku

Meditation on Time

I looked at my favourite plant in the living room tonight and suddenly saw it as a tree.  Colourful cubbies holding toys would be gone and the tree would have all the light I wish it could have now.  Nights of staying up late to greedily grab as many moments for myself as I could would be gone.

One day my babies will need me in different ways – ways that will feel to me like not being needed at all.

Time will once again be mine and I won’t know what to do with it.



Meditation on the Lives that Never Were

You put your faith in nature

but for reasons unknown to you and me

they say it wasn’t meant to be —-

hollow words lay unsettled in hollow wombs.

Unworn onesies, unsong songs.

And so you go on —

you live, you love, you create.

You are a part of the cycle in ways larger than you think possible.

Though you still long to hold a little hand,

your hand is held

as the universe moves you along,

promising to show you the way.


Meditation With Small, Soft Hands

I held my kids’ hands yesterday evening as we sat around the table breathing into our ritual.  Before dinner each night, we pause and take a moment to settle.  The daily movement of coming in from school and work, walking the dog, putting away lunch kit paraphernalia, getting snacks, cleaning up after snacks, supervising play dates, making dinner, updating the calendar, and planning for the evening activities can easily sweep me out of the moment and into “perfect mom” zone.  That strange place where I forget the depth of my soul and convince myself I’m only a good mom if I make the best birthday cake ever for the upcoming celebration or a dinner that will knock everyone’s socks off.  In the moment of peaceful calm as we quietly join hands, I can come back to myself.  Meal on the table and food untouched, we close our eyes, and everything stops.

We breathe.

We bring ourselves back to the moment.

Last night as we sat together, I felt the beautiful soft skin on my little ones’ hands and I could have wept.  I instantly reconnected with their little souls – the magic with which they sprang from my womb, my unbelievably good fortune that I get to be with them on my journey.  I was entirely swallowed up by the beauty, the naivety, the trust in their little hands as they held mine.  The lump in my throat spread to my chest and only the deepest breaths grounded it and brought it back to gratitude that I carry with me wherever I go.



Meditation on Water

I knew I needed some quiet time today.

Life has been full lately and I’ve been swept up in the waves.  This morning I remembered how I want to carry myself:  gently.  Like a bowl of water.  If I’m running around without stopping, the water will churn and spill.  Handled mindfully though, the water can be clear and still.

I remembered that I’m made of so much water; I looked to the biggest part of myself for guidance.  I remembered that the top of  the sea can look wild but the current moves confidently, slowly and with purpose deep below the waves.

So too can it be with us.

We are not our schedules.  We’re not defined by how busy we are, what we do for a living, what kind of a car we drive, how many activities our kids are signed up for …..

The truest part of me is beneath all of that.  It is moving slowly and with purpose and sometimes when I look very deep within myself, it is still.