Sunday Soul

Hi readers. I’m terribly sorry to be late posting today. Sundays are a big readership day for me and I appreciate that fact. I think people like poetry more than they pretend to like it. I’m late because I got myself involved in a “little” painting job this weekend. I decided to paint some window panes. The job seemed simple and painless, enough. Ha! I decided to complete the finishing touches this morning before the hot Florida sun baked even more dark bronze-y paint into my skin. I look like a leopard.

New readers, Sundays are devoted to poetry here at Adulting – Second Half. Poetry is the unedited, free-flowing sounds of our souls. I already got my creative juices out by painting this morning, so I am going to reprint a poem today, that you may have seen already. The poem has gone viral and many believed that it was written by an author during the 1919 Pandemic. Alas, this is not true. It was actually written in March of 2020 by a chaplain from Wisconsin named Kitty O’Meara. It is untitled and it is beautiful. Please add your poems (your writings or someone else’s writings) to the Comments section. Here is the lovely words of a very much alive, Kitty O’Meara:

By Kitty O’Meara
And the people stayed home.
And read books, and listened, and rested,
and exercised, and made art, and played games,
and learned new ways of being, and were still.
And listened more deeply.
Some meditated, some prayed, some danced.
Some met their shadows.
And the people began to think differently.
And the people healed.
And, in the absence of people living in ignorant,
dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways,
the earth began to heal.
And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again,
they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images,
and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully,
as they had been healed.