Looking
sour and stern,
the old lady pushes her
way into the inside seat, her
mouth turned downward while she stares straight ahead.
Suddenly, she claps her hands and
smiles warmly at the boy
when she sees him
looking.
His face
painted silver,
surrounded by all his
earthy belongings, the man used
loud speakers to broadcast prophetic doom.
Exiting the subway train, we
hurried, looking away
not wanting to see
his face.
Three
daughters.
Loving gifts
of greatest joy
and purest delight
to this proud mother’s heart.
Forever humbled by these
miracles of God’s creation,
I am grateful for the chance to be
part of the lives of these exquisite souls.
Our mom
was in great pain.
Even breathing was hard.
Fluid filled her face making her
barely recognizable laying there.
Her favorite red lipstick we put
gently on her lips to
make her look like
our Mom.
A life
of faith, knowing
all things will resolve the
way they should is the ultimate
test of patience, endurance, and belief
in the guidance of a greater
power. Trusting in that
force gives passion
a life.
Black clouds
roiling on the
horizon…dark, stormy
mountains of nature’s wrath seething
terror.
Flashes
of lightening
and bolts of thunder thrown
to the earth in forceful display
of strength.
Pouring
rains drenching all
that lies unprotected.
Sound and fury retreats to strike
again.
Pain
is an
unwelcome,
unrelenting,
constant companion.
It becomes a measure
against which all time is gauged.
Today, greater than yesterday
…hopefully tomorrow will be less.
Yet to dwell on pain renders it power.
Alone time.
I need it to
recharge my energy
…to listen to my own thoughts and
to sort out the demands made by others.
Solitude in small doses cures
my angst and restores me
until the next
alone time.
Bare trees.
Silent victims
felled by violent storms
that wreaked havoc on life and limb.
Lifeless
they float
upon the lake
quietly decaying
while scavengers forage and feast
until
there is
nothing left but
the shell of their stately
and once formidable presence.
Trees bared.
I step
off moss-covered
stones that lead to the past.
I look for fresh ones to move me
toward
a new
place beyond the
horizons I guarded
so carefully. I trust I have what
it takes
to find
my way. I want
to enjoy the process…
worry less about getting there.
It’s hard.
Windows To The Spirit 