Aging

Aging is the gift of a hundred memories,

And a cherished place revisited,

Through eyes of faith,

It seems eternal,

ever new.

Flowers

Peonies

Peonies are wise virgins waiting

Their partners tease them free

Suddenly there are blooms

And sweet scent

And hidden hearts luring me in

Only to smell them, not to see

My eyes closed, they take me to a place remembered

I am once more a lover

Opened full

 

 

Why Zinnias?

The package promised teacup- sized blooms

Flourescent pink, buttery yellow, sunset orange

Bedazzling

But, they are not.

Little heads laugh at me

Two inch dots of magenta and mauve

I wait for the pizzazz…

I get a thick bed of sticky stems

Some Japanese beetles

A row of summer polka dots

My neighbor asks, “What are those?”

“They’re zinnias.” I wince.

 

 

Bergamot

Bodacious (overused word)

Bold, brave and brash in the perennial beds

I am King of the Burdocks

Come and get me

Climb my petals and take my incense to hive and hollow

Unashamed, I dominate every insect itinerary

No gardener can escape our tete’ a te

Smelling of sweat, cinnamon and vinegar

Like an illicit night’s romp, my telltale residue

Clings to your fingers

Dare you brush past me, to other blooms?

 

 

 

 

 

Spring Presence

You have come up to me from the ground
In the hoarfrost, and the dew, and the breeze at my feet
In the stifling ripple of mid-day heat
The metallic shift of an approaching storm
The soil yielding, full and warm.

I pull from the roots, and find you there
Rhizomes, and tubers, and brachts laid bare
Coming clean from the land, shedding humus and sand
Water washed provend waits in my hand.

I turn in the wind, I see your form
I find you in funnels and fog and storm
In rain and mist and early dew
In buds and green shoots pushing through.

Marriage Vows

Marriage vows are impossible
As if two people can foresee
Anything
Which would merit a steadfast heart
Despite the circumstances

Foreknowing the pain
and dismal sameness,
Would doubtless send them screaming down the aisle

They have yet to know the true meaning of frustration
Or apathy
Or loneliness

A decades-long study in failed expectations
And deep disappointments
Will leave them lost and adrift

For they want to honor
They will instead endure
They wish to protect
Instead they will watch, helpless, as the other struggles
They think they can cherish
Instead they will question, do I?
Again and again

So they will wait for rare moments
When there is relative peace
And touch needs no words
And all seems well

Their only promised fulfilled...
Will be
To stay

Family Traits

There must be genetic similarities between our Father and human kind. For all our variation, there are things each one of us carry which link us to Him.
The way we look at clouds and see shapes.
The need we have to make something with our hands.
The drive to be outside.
Our ceaseless thirst for companionship.
The way we marvel at a sunset.
Our insistence on naming things.
The drive of the seasons, our response to rhythm.


Then, there are other things which make us children, and not fully grown.
Our awe of the mysterious.
Our fear of the dark.
Our all consuming pain which blots out His presence.
Our souls, too easily satisfied with what does not fill us.
Our confusion about what is most True.

Confidence

Confidence comes from knowing that whatever our choices in life may be, good or bad, our God wastes nothing.

Homing

Homing

What draws us to a place where we think we will fit in?
This desire to be accepted and welcomed drives us constantly.
It is an ache that wakes us in the middle of the night.
We may try to ignore it, but it drives us just the same.

Animals migrate, cyclically
Are we cyclical ?
Life is labyrinthine
There is a center destination
We think we are trapped in a pointless journey

We are not

The center is far better than any place we will find along the way

The center is the culmination of all we will experience

It is the starting point

The enemy has chosen our most vulnerable proclivity as his target to distort the plan
He has taken our fallen world, fallen families, fallen places
And convinced us they are home
Normal

We are victims of a false true north
A warped template
A broken compass

No matter how bad or broken our doppleganger may be, it still feels like home to us
To deviate is excruciating
A phantom pain