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orange trees from the orange grove where my husband was raised, Yorba Linda CA. I bless thee, Lord, because I GROW Among thy trees, which in a ROW To thee both fruit and order OW. When thou dost greater judgements SPARE And with thy knife but prune and PARE, Ev’n fruitful trees more fruitful ARE….
July 14th is Bastille Day, the French National Day commemorating the beginning of the French Revolution in 1789. (I believe the folks mark the occasion with fireworks.) One hundred eighty four years later, in l973, my husband and I were married. There are still a few fireworks. That was forty-two years ago; by God’s grace…
A mountain so wide the horizon could not contain it The path rough and boulder-strewn, here a plain, then stumbling again through the dark undergrowth towards the top. We left for this journey in the light— someone keeps stealing it away. Sun rays appear in glimmers through the trees, a flutter here and there Revealing life,…
Doors are like plans. . Sometimes people hold a door open for you when your hands (your life) are full. You also use them to leave and head out into the world. Doors open/close, open/close–traffic comes and goes, we come and go in and out to find pasture. Sometimes they are closed for a…
Words like water poured out reflect my wide world, contained in pieces, paragraphs of pain and power and the past, puzzles to put into place. I long to be known heard, seen, reflected in the pool you hold in your heart showing me the “me” that I am. Instead of a mirror, you hand me…
The family of goldfinches crest over the roof above my head. Their -V- of flight dismantles as they land branch by branch in the green, bright yellow coloring invisible to my eye. Morning has begun. The world wakes up and it is always the birds’ job to tell me so, messengers flinging notes aloft–I catch…