(With thanks to the one who mowed the path for me to here, fifteen minutes' walk from our farmhouse.)

Fireflies
When I sleep with the trees and the cool night breeze
caresses my skin and the peace flows in
my windows night black there is nothing I lack.
The world is behind me; the earth's got my back.
Sky of cloud, no moon shine, but the fireflies are mine!
They flicker and bright, faithful agents of light
in a world dark and cold they the last of the bold
tell when all light is gone the small spark may glow on.

Oyster mushroom, five feet up a poplar tree

I wrote my name on the bottom of a cork,
stood by the creek and threw it in.
It floated free and vanished round the bend,
danced away with a bob and spin.
No human eyes will find my name,
no one will ever see.
But the crumbling days will lovingly join
mother earth to the bits of me.

Instead of Atonement: The Bible's Salvation Story and Our Hope for Wholeness by Ted Grimsrud
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I will not claim to review this book, as I do not think I can do it justice. I found it encouraging, uplifting, and life-confirming with its message of God's love freely given, even though we do not deserve it and certainly cannot earn it with works, sacrifices or declarations.
P. 75: "The good news of God's love...has always characterized reality no matter how blind human beings have been to it."
P. 83: Jesus calls "his followers to live by the logic of mercy and to reject the logic of retribution."
         "...'Father' conveys intimacy and mutuality." We are "to think of God as one who loves (us) like a parent." As a mother myself, who has been amazed to learn over the years how deep, enduring and indestructible my love for my children can be, this  feels real to me, for if I can love my children so unconditionally and so permanently, how much more must God be.

This book does a good job of breaking down the false image of an angry vengeful God expecting unreasonable perfection and fearful obedience from a detestable humanity.


View all my reviews

And the wild storm rages and the wild winds blow

and tall trees bend down and great waters flow

and swirling clouds roll in wrathful play;

makes you wonder will you ever see another sunny day.

Small birds are tossed, large branches fly

as I look out my window at the wild dark sky.

So long has it rained the whole world is gray,

makes you wonder will you ever see another sunny day.

All around my house hear the tempest roar,

see the constant battle of this weather war.

And I stand and I wait watching come what may

and I wonder will I ever see another sunny day.

Two good things I did today: three! Three! Three!
I saw a hundred dragonflies and they saw me.
I stopped a long time looking at a hawk up in the sky:
it floated, soared, and sailed up there,
and made me want to fly.
And then because I saw the world was beautiful and bright
I picked up trash beside the road because it just seemed right.

There must there must be more than the dust
and sweat and blood and tears and toil
before we comet to the soil;
be more than fears when end our years,
more than brief moment cut away
a taste of life, then down we lay.
(And still I sit, and let clock tick
escape by movie, book and game.
Evade, avoid: real thought brings pain.)
Sometimes I see outside of me
to others' wrestling mortal coil,
know we will all commit to soil.
There must be rust and death unjust
but we have us and love and care
and death can't take the love we share.

I'm a pendulum; I hang on your every word.
But when you are silent I'm captive, unstirred.
And when you are distant or hard to hear,
I huddle all heavy and still for fear.
Hoping for message by sight or sound
I vacillate: hang on or just hang around.
And if I let go my hold will I fall?
Or is there a holder above it all?