May 7th, Leschi
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Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
Thank you, Jesus, you came to The average everyday of us, Chose dwelling in limited space, Smiling your vast smile at our Smallness as we reach for our evening beers Down at the local, Baring our souls as we join heart and soul With our friends. You sit back and rest with us in our…
The feeder hangs swaying, no avian fellows alighting. (males are the brightest; why?) I wait and watch–they’ve flown I wonder where–for food? Will their shimmering yellow return, a harbinger of the lightening days ahead? Indeed, one by one, I know they’ll come hungry again (still) as they’ve done year after year finding food, flying beauty, feeding me with their…
I want to fly these dumbbells up, down, up, down quick! The momentum of each lift rising at my side pushing past perhaps what’s safe or wise in the name of what? Speed or yes, the checklist-exercise- done! When I slow instead, face the window and raise these weighted arms slow, slow, slow-up; slow, slow,…
We were made for Eden dwellers with God in his greenglory and goodness among the vining wonder and fragrant trees. We came from dirt creation, witness to his filling of this face of the earth with his endless imagination named “witch hazel” “flowering quince” “red currant” “sweetbox.” He charged us as caretakers of His Garden, resident…
The noisy birds squawk and squeal, an out of sync chorus bent on harmony as discordant as a traffic jam. In between the garbled avian speech I hear a finch and a robin announce, “It’s morning!” In my very vague 4:30 a.m. brain I succumb to the sounds of Creation’s alarm clock and I am…
There is an altar here– facing the supply cubbie flanked by the printer (bedecked with Post-it notes), computer at my alternate elbow. Stray crackers sit open next to the pen and paper and glasses, mid-snack, abandoned. Paper, tape, scissors stapler–all adorn this secular cum sacred space. How so? I folded my hands in prayer and…