Saturday, December 26, 2009
Dripping and freezing on
Crystalline silver on pale not-green
What is the color of lichen covering the trunk, branches and bare limbs of the maple trees outside my window?
To those of the wood, it is
Familiar; identifiable; recognizable.
The undergarments of northern woods,
Exposed on branches laid otherwise bare by autumn.
Creamy, pale, velvety.
Definitely not green. But what?
I see now how well it matches the color of the walls here in my living room.
That was not intentional.
Sea foam green. Perhaps.
Though in all my years living near and gazing at the sea,
I've seen the ocean's many colors,
Angry and dark, deep greens and blues
Playful sheets of shimmering light
But I've never seen the ocean render the color we call sea foam.
Psych ward green. Perhaps.
But no, it is far too sensual for such attribution.
Upon such examination & reflection,
I shall never see the branches as bare again.
The trees exposing their dainties when they drop their leaves for the winter. The hardwood forest a giant burlesque show that opens each fall and runs until spring
Shy and demure in a gentle snow,
Raucous and wild as a nor'easter blows blizzard-like across the canopy
Monday, December 21, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
For I can't sleep in Christmas season
When all around me, here and there,
Apathy hath filled the air.
Come Christmas Eve or Christmas morn
Its not about the Savior born
Fellowship? Good News spread?
That egg nog's gone right to your head!
Good pastor, you this Church must grow
But don't disturb the status quo
(Especially the Christmas Show,
It's very special, don't you know?)
Good Christians all (I'm pretty sure)
Come walking weekly through our door
And rush to chat up the rare new face
That finds its way into God's place
Did I say God? Oh, heavens me!
What I meant was Church Trustee.
But just for now I simply pray
That God will grant another day
That I might use to do His will
And grant me sleep, that's better still!
I'll take His testing 'round the clock
For the privilige to guide His flock.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
In odd contrast, my dog sleeps snugly against my left leg, her breath occasionally whistling through her nose with a sound remarkably like the call of the Eastern Meadowlark. Heavy sigh, quiet snuffling like a pygmy wart hog, and the mood casts again from spring meadow to Frau Blucher's dungeon.
When dimly lit, winter night shadows are the deepest Ektachrome blue. But I can take no more, and must somehow salvage an hour or two of sleep. And so hit send, with further analogies left un-analogyzed.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Life, the world, is simple. We complicate it every time we put up a barrier to connecting heart to heart. Heart to heart, it burns united, it rips shredding agony when pulled apart, but stokes the furnace of life if simply allowed to burn its natural course. For me, its never been that fabled two hearts as one for ever and ever. Yet, I gladly carry the pain and scars for the loves that have been.
I love the idea of love.
Me. You. Something. Here. Now.