Wednesday, January 29, 2020

Acorn


Gentle thuds beneath my feet 
       draw my eyes upward to the
Majestic oak, branches bedecked
       with a fine mast
Stooping to notice, I take an acorn
       between my fingers –
This smooth, elongated cylinder so ordinary –
       but its weight in my palm
              whispers of beyond
Hidden within its shell lies a tree to be
If only it finds good soil in which
       to lie and let its heart be
       drawn forth from hiding by the
              slow care of sun and water
              kissing earth

Little Acorn, will you yield or resist
       this seeming death, trading the safety
       of your shell for the transient pain that is the
       only path to Life?
Fear not – nor forget the beauty of those
       leafy arms from which you fell
Choose to die now and you, too, in time
       will reach heavenward, roots anchored
       deep enough to resist any storm

Parc du Thabor - Rennes, France
September 27, 2019


"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." - Jesus in John 12:24 

"The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn." - Ralph Waldo Emerson


(After I first posted this poem, a friend sent me this amazing photo he took of an acorn who made the choice I talked about in my poem. I wonder what forest it will be used to create!)

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Soon




In the crisp air of the blue-sky day
Still icy enough to numb your toes
They’re playing the same refrain –

It echoes forth in a thousand tongues
Climbing heavenward up the suede bark of the sequoia –
            Soft to the touch like a warm mare in a sundrenched pasture

Gardeners’ spades breaking earth chime it out like church bells
While cooing doves share the news with their pigeon cousins,
Chattering over lunch
In dappled light, the bamboo tries a few strains,
Leaves and shoots bidden by unseen breeze
Longing to be clothed in beauty once again, the thorny rose branches
Hear the rising melody and dare to hope

All at once, a hush comes over them all,
Like an orchestra before the Oboe’s “La”
(Even the bamboo stops its rustling)
And upon the grassy hillock, daffodil shoots play their
One preliminary note so all may hear:
            “It won’t be long now…”

(We all know  s o m e t h i n g  w o n d e r f u l  is about to happen)

The robin, in all his tiny glory, chirps out the same, warming my
Heart chilled by winter’s bite with the promise of the concert to come –
The Spring Symphony
That all will join
To play in perfect harmony –
The yearly dress rehearsal heralding an even greater Coming.

“It won’t be long now…”
Let heaven and nature sing!


“Surely I am coming soon.”
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!
– Revelation 22:20


January 20, 2020
Parc du Thabor
Rennes, France

Photo by Jon Robinson on Unsplash

Friday, January 17, 2020

8:05 - Métro de Rennes

Skilled fingers spread gnarled grains
       into feathery paper
Staccato swish back and forth till all line up
       (at least one thing she can control in the swirl of life all around)


Despite the screaming warning that
       her action brings death,
there’s art and beauty in the banality
       (like a photographer winding film in a darkroom)

A white filter placed at one end –
       then a roll, a lick, a stick & a twist.
She holds it between two fingers, then to her lips
       and the foreign object becomes an
              extension of her Self –
       waiting for ignition
              paused in a reverie
       as the metro car rolls on –

Heart somewhere suspended between
       black beanie and ripped jeans –
       longings held in the blurred space
       between sleep and waking as she gazes resolutely
into the unknown


(She tells herself the stump between her teeth gives meaning to the now)


Rennes, France
Oct 3, 2018



Photo by Ricards Zalmezs on Unsplash

Monday, January 13, 2020

What to Wear?

A love that confronts
       A kind of love I have not often encountered
I try it on for size, arms twisting and pushing to find the sleeves,
       breath held until head emerges into light

A first glance in the mirror leaves me uncertain

I’m used to roomy sweaters knit by hands
       whose lips speak nothing but praise
They feel safe, comfortable

But is this new garment a deeper kind of love,
       fitting close to the skin and cutting to the heart?
Will choosing to put it on invite me into newfound freedom,
       like a dancer’s leotard & tights frees her body to follow
       the contours of the music?

Can it reveal deeper beauty I might have missed,
       hidden beneath layers of feigned perfection?

Rennes, France
September 15, 2018



unsplash-logoDavid Hofmann

Friday, January 10, 2020

3 poems from August 2018


Thirst

A parched one stoops to drink at the musical stream
Lapping up beauty with both ears
Soul revived as water bathes heart

Rennes, France

August 20, 2018
_______

That Space Before Today

Morning hush hangs thick and fragile –
          transient – precious
Water splashing off her mop into the bucket
Clinking keys turning to grant entrance
Wet locks kiss my cheeks
          still warm from sleep

A zoom of a vacuum and the
          silence is no more
Welcome to today.

La Rochette, France
August 28, 2018


Some noise is imposed, and some noise is chosen. And even when there is outer silence, there can be inner noise… or outer noise and inner silence – the “silence” of inner space for 
God to speak.
_______

“You Speak” - song by Audrey Assad

You liberate me from my own noise and my own chaos
From the chains of a lesser law You set me free

In the silence of the heart You speak
And it is there that I will know You and You will know me…

You satisfy me till I am quiet and confident
In the work of the Spirit I cannot see…
_______

Vines

Curving vines creeping across the fence
     remind me of a choice:
          to what will I choose to cling
          and in what direction will I go and grow?
     Who or what will be my “stake”?

La Rochette, France
August 29, 2018

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

By the River Tisza

Morning poetic sketches in Tokaj, Hungary 



July 31, 2018

Quaking leaves whisper of Wind unseen
     Breathing cool refreshment into tired days
As waters glide past like sand in an hourglass
     winking diamonds reflect greater Light

I hold it in my heart and linger.
_______

Jeremiah 17:7-8 


“Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
     whose trust is the Lord.
8 He is like a tree planted by water,
     that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes,
     for its leaves remain green,
and is not anxious in the year of drought,
     for it does not cease to bear fruit.”

_______



August 1, 2018

The smell of fish hangs in the air
as a train rushes past,
shattering the pulsing stillness
with a burst

The gray sky’s veil presses down
across my cheeks,
meeting my heart where still lies
     a CHOICE
     who or what will animate my day?
_______

Psalm 3:3
“But you, O Lord, are a shield about me,
my glory, and the lifter of my head.”

_______



August 2, 2018

Twisted white trumpets dotting the hillside
speak of a daily choice:
     to unfurl their petals and embody God’s glory
     or keep their hearts closed and deprive the world of
          their unique beauty
Stooping with childlike delight, I give thanks that most have dared to 
open wide their hearts.

(As people, we can sometimes be twisted like these tiny flowers – at times simply because it is not yet time to unfurl and at other times because we resist doing so out of fear or mistrust. But in that “twisted” state, people are filled with such potential. I pray for God’s “unfurling” in each life. May we be like tiny trumpets declaring His glory and beauty through our lives.)
_______

August 3, 2018

Sunbeams kiss my skin
And wind through the willows
     brushes the warmth gently from my cheeks
Lapping waves rock the old boat
     as the dock pulses with the river’s life
A splash close by reminds me I’m not the only creature sharing this 
space 


_______

August 4, 2018

Wheels turn slowly in me this morning
     and in stillness I’m keenly aware of the deep inner movement of 
womanhood
I feel Your gentle welcome to come
     with all of me – the fragility & fatigue are not a surprise or 
despised by You
Me voici – Hineni – Here am I
     Draw me into You and use the raw materials of “me” to bless in 
Your world today
_______

Psalm 103:1, 13-14
“Bless the Lord, O my soul,
     and all that is within me,
bless his holy name!

13 As a father shows compassion to his children,
     so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.
14 For he knows our frame;
     he remembers that we are dust.”

_______

August 6, 2018

The river flows slowly today
Inching breathlessly toward the unknown
An early morning flutist’s notes lilt through the air,
     meeting my thankful heart
How good it feels to be still with my God.
_______

August 12, 2018

Blue & black damselflies flit by water’s edge
     as small fish wind their way below
One final morning to pause on river bank
     with my God
It is well with my soul