Full moon rises behind
bare limbs soon to be
full of new buds, spreads
some light in a dark night.
Category Archives: poetry
Surviving Chaos
On this February day when
chaos seems to be the norm,
I stepped out onto my deck
and was caught unaware by
yellow and purple crocuses
blooming in the raised wooden
box. And then, another gift.
Daffodil shoots by the mailbox.
“To expect the unexpected
shows a thoroughly modern
intellect,” so said Oscar Wilde.
I say “Look for and embrace
surprise if you want to keep
your sanity in this crazy world.
January 6
Some say it never happened
or that it was a peaceful
event led by patriots or
that it is right to remove
all charges. If they watched
live coverage of that day,
how can they possibly
believe all the lies? An
alternate reality in which
the villains are now heroes
and the heroes villains
circulates among those
who refuse to see the truth.
Brave heroes who dared
to investigate that day
are now maligned by
our next president who
refused to be part of
our country’s peaceful
transition of power.
We will soon witness the
dignity with which our
current president passes
the power to him. May
he use that power wisely
and fairly. A worried
world will be watching
and we must all be vigilant
and peacefully protest
what we think is illegal,
immoral, or inhumane.
Compassion and love will
win over fear and hate.
Such Abundance
The grass crunches on
this cold winter morning
and frost twinkles on
every blade. The sun
reflects off a thin layer
of ice on the pond and
two crows in cacophony
at the top of a tree
discuss the morning news.
Shell-like white fungi
decorates a fallen branch,
soft moss covers the roots
of a tree, and fiddlehead fern
pokes through brown leaves.
Suddenly there is a flash
of red as a pileated
woodpecker darts from
one tree to another.
Tell me, how can one’s
heart not lift with this
lushness? Tell me, what
will you do to save this
for those not yet born?
Everything is Welcome
A tiny pink purse
and a pink hairbrush
in her hands, the
petite girl looked
up at me, the
greeter, who must
have looked official
with my nametag,
and very seriously
asked “Are
hairbrushes
allowed?” My
answer was yes
although her
mother may have
wished I said no!
But we know everyone
is welcome, whoever
they are and wherever
they are in their faith
journey, so why not a little
girl’s favorite hairbrush?
Sacred Moment
Sometimes we startle the
heron as she stands at the
end of the pond, and she
spreads her mighty wings
and flies away, afraid of
our company. Today I was
not present, not seeing,
but worrying about so
many things. And then,
from a hill above the
water, I saw her framed
between two bare trees,
tall, regal, motionless.
With no camera to record
the perfect photo, I was
disappointed …. but then
again, perhaps that one
sacred moment was only for
the heron, my dog, and me.
.
When I Die
When I die,
I want to let go
and float away
as serenely
and gracefully
as the falling
leaves in autumn,
uncomplaining
yet curious,
surrendering
to the eternal
circle of life.
August Mornings
Mist covers the pond
like a giant’s breath
on a cool August morning,
a morning that is a gift
after hot humid days.
And then it effortlessly lifts
to allow the sun its show.
On a hot humid morning,
dragon flies dart around
plants by the lake,
blue wings flashing, and
tree frogs chatter away while
water nibbles at pond’s edge.
New sweet gum leaves
poke up from the roots of an
old tree and bees hum in
a hollow trunk; pine needles
are strewn across the path,
washed in piles by the recent rain.
White button weed hides in the
grass and I almost miss it.
I try to be present, but it’s a challenge.
On a Bench by the Lake
In a wide-brimmed hat
and yellow jacket,
head down, hands on
lap, she sat on the bench
by the lake surrounded
by trees just beginning
to show their colors.
Was she meditating,
was she praying or
was she just being?
We’ll never know.
Luna and I walk behind
her, not wanting to
disturb her moment
of peace and solitude.
Photo created by AI!
Hope and Healing
Remembering how Olivia
planted crocuses around
a tree before an illness
in an old Walton’s episode,
I too planted them, needing
something to look forward
to. It was a warm October
morning a few weeks before
surgery when I knew the
unwelcome visitor in my lung
had to come out and the
road to recovery would be
long. Now here you are
pushing up your green shoots
and opening your blooms.
I am still here and both
of us have made it through
the dark days of winter
and are turning our heads
toward the healing sun.
Image by 🌼Christel🌼 from Pixabay
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