April 19, 2014

I am impressed by the tongue that

Forms the sounds that make the words

That grant us conversation and the

Ability to call each other by name.

I am myself and no one else. I can

Account for only what goes on inside

My head. There are people who come

Close to being one with me but parts

Of them I do not recognize.   

We are encouraged to be individual,

Yet there is admiration for those

Who give up parts of themselves to

Benefit the many: the musician, the

medicals, those who search for God.

March 29, 2014

March was a repetition of January...bitter cold to the end. Today was my second walk to the garden patches. It is 47 degrees this morning and somewhat damp. We expect rain this afternoon. One hardy gardener was tilling the soil which can hardly be free of frost yet. Snowdrops still look newly born, crocus are starting to bloom and daffodils have pierced the soil. The thread-like blooms of the witch hazel would be better appreciated if last years leaves would exit.

Amanda and her church group leave Guatemala this morning after their weak-long mission trip. I see smiling children's faces on Facebook while the group was visiting a school. Looks like the kids really latched on to these foreign visitors.

Instead of Spring

One year, it kept on snowing

and spring failed to appear.

Ground floor entrances were

buried, so we skied in and out

of second story windows.

The only way to find food was

by helicopter or dog sled. We flew in

extra dogs to help keep the trails packed.

It saved a lot of wear on highways

and since traffic lights were useless,

we shut down all the windmills. We

special-ordered barrels and parachutes.

When seed catalogs arrived, we burned

them in the barrels to keep the dogs warm.

We kept parachutes wrapped in backpacks

in case we needed a doctor or hospital.

We never discovered where spring

had gone but after the melt and

after the mud, we found roses

and peonies in full bloom,

as well as grasshoppers and

red-winged blackbirds

in the fields.

Childhood memories: Nonsense Song

It was midnight on the ocean;
Not a street car was in sight.
The sun was shining brightly,
And it rained all day that night.

'Twas a summer's night in winter
And the rain was snowing fast.
A barefoot boy with shoes on
Stood sitting on the grass.

....It was evening and the rising sun
Was setting in the West.
The little fishes in the trees
Were huddled in their nest.

While the organ peeled potatoes,
Lard was rendered by the choir.
While the sexton rang the dish rag,
Someone set the church on fire.

"Holy Smoke," the preacher shouted,
And in the rush he lost his hair.
Now his head resembles heaven,
For there is no parting there....

Treats of the day:

Amazing Grace by the Anntrim Mennonite Choir - there is something magical about familiar hymns done by a choral group - comfort hidden in deep early memories.

and

fresh summer vegetables dipped in artichoke/spinace hummus

February

February is a month of blizzards.

Snow roaring in like wildcats from

the mountains looking for anything

to devour.

Snapped power lines send us

back to zero before the birth

of fire and light. My sanctuary

is a prison.

I age another year in February

in a fever of confinement. Lost

in books of places I will never

see.

I could tolerate winter if it

were boxed into February

and March began the dance

of spring.

Dogs Should Always Pee on Flowers

Dogs should always pee on flowers,

never on the jarring metal signposts

that multiply around each corner or

on the wooden slats that chute the

cars in place. Their tender toes must

always whisk the grass and stay away

from asphalt. And if they want to

dig, it must be in the tended mulch

that holds the blooms for with

the least excitement, they can

send it skittering across the path.

Dogs should always head for walkers’

ankles and snuff their noses at each

person’s private smells and work at

tangling their leash with others.