Sideways glancing, face atilt
she watches, wondering
at our wandering, solemnly
sees our not-seeing.
How do we miss it–
the faithful lumen bursting
barren emptiness, sun’s reflection,
co-anchoring the sky?
Ignore her presence as she
pauses over our shoulder?
Nurturing nightlight, she whispers
to our worry, “Just Look Up,”
Somberly sits in the quiet,
as mothers are wont to do,
waits for us to wonder anew,
bear witness to her faithfulness
and find our way home
in the dark by her gauzy light.
photo, Google Images
Last week I had a day off–yippee!–to go to Traffic Court.
As I drove along in the car, I ‘wrote’ this poem–I put it on paper when I got home.
c. 2012 Jody Lee Collins
Blue Plate Special–Good Today ONLY
You point to the air
wordless yet speaking.
your hands, eyes conveying something.
What do you see?
Are you ready? Yes.
Is it time? Maybe.
Leaning in, you listen.
but we can neither see nor hear
tethered by the doing.
So we chat and move and do and help,
missing the Messenger.
But you see Him;
viewing the Invisible,
Confident He’s calling.
Yes, you’ll be leaving
My father-in-law Ernest Paul Collins passed away on the 4th of July, 2010, his Independence Day. It was a glorious home going.
I wrote this poem on the January day in 2003 when my first grandson, Hanan Samuel, was born.
This week he turned 9….I wanted to share this to honor him.
Your birth today unequivocally proved
that science still can do nothing
at explaining the miraculous.
The day you came into the world
the university physicists claimed to
be pursuing an explanation of gravity.
an unseen force, it defies definition actually
They lamented that “it can’t exactly be pinned down” and
“doesn’t act in a way that science can explain.”
It has been said that “nothing important is completely explicable.**”
Indeed, your miraculous birth cannot be explained apart from God,
your creation cannot be contained.
Though swaddled tightly now,
you will not be confined to a neat little package.
Your long, wiggling fingers will noodle on a keyboard some day,
Your legs will flail in the ocean waves,
Your daddy-sized feet will carry you into the unknown,
You will fall, you will climb, you will think and create.
We will sit back and watch, observe and record
As you unfold from this neat little package.