Saturday, March 15, 2014

Acorn shell in oak bark lichen 

Hundred year old woman
Acres and bushels and fathoms of words,
furlongs of words have I,
and all of them painful but all of them true,
and all from a world gone by.
Who knows, when all of my loved ones are gone
and all of my enemies dead,
who remembers the world as it used to be
back when I am what I said.
When I doubt the love of God I still know it deep inside me. Will old age or infirmity take that from me? If it does, takes my knowledge or my mind, I will still be a beloved though I may not know it any more. (Although I have heard it said, do not go gentle into that deep fishbowl.)

Consider the goldfish, supreme in her element.
She swims so lovely, moving dance,
glide and flash, swirling by.
Knows not all of earth and sky,
but grounded in the waters.
I see the approach of full immersion.
I see I forget what I used to know.
Long have I searched for the heart of God,
have held it and felt it inside of mine,
but a few scales now glisten on my long-smooth mind.
And sometimes a floating, and sometimes a shimmer
of my changing skin as the years polish me.
Oh, let me slip lightly around my fishbowl,
Shining and simple


Sunday, March 2, 2014

A silent dawn; I could not sleep
so watched the light grow on the trees
The sky was pale; the trees were still
all watching pale light sky to fill
All waiting there and motionless
Did they know something I just guess?
The trees stood tall and did not stir
nor ask where absent colours were
But waited as they always do
until they gold against the blue.

And I sit by my fireplace
and wait for someday sun on face

Last summer's hazelnut and shadow.
The Birthday
The hours pass since you are gone
The days and years are moving on
But I do not nor does the pain
Of never you with us again
The sun shines, wind blows, rain will fall
We get together, smiles and all,
But ache remains and always will
The shock loss sorrow slay us still.