Violets are Blue

Cyclamen

2012-02-04T17:05:00.000-08:00

*The back porch cyclamen has been blooming since Christmas. Loved capturing the raindrops on the petals this morning.

black & blue sage

2012-01-22T19:16:00.001-08:00

*The black & blue sage is one of my favorites from a small side garden.

Paperwhites

2012-01-15T14:47:00.001-08:00

* These are from the back porch. They were a gift from a friend at Christmas.

Rain or Shine

2012-01-10T20:15:00.001-08:00

*The purple Angel's Trumpet on the back porch is very fragrant. It was given to me by my friend Ginny.

I Keep Forgetting

2011-11-14T20:16:00.000-08:00

i keep forgetting
the beauty of the river
until I'm there again
was it always this green?

did birds always perch
on that island there?
and is there sun enough
to share with turtles?

my eyes catch copper
and red's every sister
did the trees always
shimmer on the distant shore?

i walk the banks
long enough to remember
there is sun enough
for birds and turtles and me

*The photo was taken on the banks of the Comal River in Gruene, Texas.

A Word from Annie Dillard

2011-10-11T20:15:00.000-07:00

“I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wondering awed about on a splintered wreck I've come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty bats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them...”
― Annie Dillard

What's in Bloom?

2011-10-07T16:25:00.000-07:00

* Crepe myrtle & butterfly vine from my backyard.

What's in Bloom?

2011-10-01T14:00:00.000-07:00

*Photos are from my morning walk. All of the flowers are growing wild on the bayou near my home.

Remembering

2011-09-09T13:20:00.000-07:00

In his book about the lost chalice (cup) that Jesus used at the Last Supper, Thomas Costain closes with these words:

The chalice...will be buried deep down and lie in darkness for a very long time, perhaps for centuries. When it is brought out into the light again, it will be into a far different world. The earth will be peopled with new races, tall men, beardless for the most part, with strange talk on their tongues. There will be great cities and mighty bridges and towers higher than the Tower of Babel. But evil will be loosed and they will fight long and bitter wars with frightening new forces of destruction. In such a world as this, the little Chalice will look strange and lost and very lonely. But it may be that in this age, when man holds lightning in his hand and rides the sky as Simon the Magician strove to do, it will be needed more than it is needed now."

--The Silver Chalice, 1952

I was reading Costain's book shortly after 9/11/01. The novel is a fictional rendering of what may have happened to the chalice that Jesus used to share the passover meal with his disciples. When I reached the final paragraphs, I was chilled. Several images in his description had an eery thread: great cities, towers, destruction, riding the sky. Something else is Costain's words too; the hope of healing is in the cup of Christ.

What does that mean? In a world where the unthinkable and unimaginable happened, Jesus extends an invitation to the table where we drink from his cup. A Passover celebration, the beginning of a new covenant, suffering, love, blessing, sacrifice, healing and forgiveness...all contained in the Cup of Christ. We can receive it and we can share it.

*The image is from Garth Williams, published in a children's book in 1986. My mother passed the book along and I treasure the back cover art with the twin towers.

reaching out

2011-09-05T06:18:00.000-07:00

I found myself the center of attention,
the center of his attention
not me really, my hand

this good-for-nothing hand
injury & ugliness
right here in the open

this cursed hand
curled & weak
can't work or caress

I'm not even known by my name anymore

He asks the unimaginable
to stretch and extend
what I most need to hide

Now he's center of my attention
hand and life restored by Love
no one can undo what he's done

*A reflection on the story of the man with the withered hand in Luke 6:6-11. The image is my sun-scorched basil on the porch.

floating

2011-08-10T18:37:00.001-07:00

*image is a white oleander bloom in my neighbor's backyard pool.

Angel Trumpet

2011-08-09T19:47:00.001-07:00

*purple & white angel trumpet from the front yard.

wild violet

2011-08-05T08:21:00.000-07:00

*This wild violet is tiny & showed up at the base of a cactus on the back porch.

Plumbago

2011-07-28T05:12:00.000-07:00

* from the front porch.

pretty in pink

2011-07-27T15:08:00.000-07:00

* the photo is my pink portulaca from the back porch

my boy

2011-07-26T04:16:00.000-07:00

he wakes slow and runs fast
he drinks chocolate milk in one mighty sip
he points out mustangs and corvettes
he holds my hand even when we aren't in the street
he watches for shapes in the clouds
he wins jedi battles & nascar races in the living room
he watches lizards and laughs at squirrels
he wonders what the turtles have been doing all day

*The photo is from the driveway. He was a good sport to pause for a second.

my song

2011-07-25T04:28:00.000-07:00

my summer song is
the slap of jump rope in the driveway
cicadas screaming in the trees
the crunch of rock salt in the icecream maker
how much longer 'til it freezes?

my autumn song is
the bang of the oven door as pies come out
pages turning in new school books
our car rolling into grandma's driveway
leaves crunching under my boots

my winter song is
the zip of a jacket early in the morning
spoon stirring spiced hot tea
the tumble of birdseed into the feeder
shower of needles from the Christmas tree

my spring song is
the wind stirring branches beyond my reach
rolling thunder storm across the sky
sewing machine hums in the dining room
hushed voices after bedtime as the days fly by

*the photo is wisteria from my backyard.

What's Blooming Today?

2011-07-24T14:14:00.001-07:00

This is my red "Crown of Thorns" from the back porch.

Bullard, Texas

2011-07-08T21:19:00.001-07:00

*These images are from the First United Methodist Church in Bullard, Texas. Most are from the courtyard. The horse & building are from a nearby property. Bullard is about 15 minutes south of Tyler, Texas.

What's Blooming in May?

2011-05-18T19:27:00.000-07:00

*Day lily & iris from my mother, hibiscus & passion vine from the backyard.

No one told me

2011-05-16T19:23:00.000-07:00

i sit separated
from you who knew me
a heart cavern opens

out tumbles our history
of fits and starts
from an unsealed tomb

no one told me i would
still hear your voice
from so far away

* The sunflower image is mine from the backyard.

Alto, Texas

2011-03-05T09:05:00.000-08:00

*Images are from Alto, Texas. The white building is Zion Methodist Church. I was there to honor Tom Oliphint's life. The rest of the images are from his family home.

Morning Song

2011-02-25T09:06:00.000-08:00

the cardinal had the first song
loud and clear
from the top of the oak
commanding sky, leaf & sun
like he was the one
to pull the string and
make the day begin

he sang
before the sun rounded the corner
and daffodils unfolded in cool peace
before grey doves roused
to find their feeder empty
I stepped across dewy grass
with an offering of seed

* the photo is the first daffodil of the season from my front yard.

What's Blooming in Winter?

2011-01-31T16:43:00.000-08:00

*Images are my backyard favorites from January 2011.

He Swims

2011-01-14T19:41:00.000-08:00

he swims
the lake he knows so well
cool water late night
lights guide him
from a distant shore

moving from
insisting voices
hurry up and slow down
he is too much
and not enough

the water
runs and slides
across shoulders and skin
washing the weight
of day and year

peace rolls
his thoughts
ripple and still
under night sky
he can breathe again

the lake remembers
calls him back
to quiet waters
where he is known
and he swims

**Image is Paul Stodolny's photo of Ostler Lake on Flickr.

2011-01-02T20:37:00.000-08:00

*The pink rosebuds are from the garden. They are loving the cold weather.

What's in Bloom?

2010-11-28T18:22:00.000-08:00

Images are from my parents' backyard in Corpus Christi on Thanksgiving Day.

life

2010-10-06T07:12:00.000-07:00

life bends
my eyes see
where all of this is headed

life changes
time is different now
every day matters after all

life swirls
I'm not afraid, just
let me be next to my brother

life bursts
human hands can barely
hold this precious gift

The photo was taken in San Diego last week by my friend Whitney.

What's Blooming Today?

2010-10-05T16:07:00.000-07:00

Photos are from my garden. I was especially happy to catch the bumble bee on the passion vine. He was not too pleased and chased me off.

summer day still

2010-08-01T14:44:00.000-07:00

under warm canopy
cicadas serenade
a chorus of late summer
still

under sprawling branch
every leaf green
motionless meditation
still

under chambray sky
no breeze to move clouds
they are sleeping in today
still

under shaded eve
flower clings to vine
now and then a fragrant nod
still

under song and under sky
sits orange butterfly
resting from flower flight
still

Pretty In Pink

2010-07-28T18:52:00.001-07:00

Rainy afternoons in Houston have made for pretty blossoms. Seeing the kaleidoscope of pink has been a great late summer discovery. Photos are from my Nikon D3000.

Love

2010-07-10T06:32:00.000-07:00

We all bring our own brand of love.

One arrives when hope stretches thin,
one speaks quietly of life,
one calls in encouragement,
one sparks laughter,
one extends warm grace,
one prays healing,
one stands resolute.

They all soften the edges of hard days,
They all carry love.

*the photo is from our morning glory vine in May.

What's Blooming Tonight?

2010-05-26T19:41:00.000-07:00

Walked around the garden after dinner and here's what's in bloom. First time to use the night setting on my camera. Especially happy to add the pink mandavilla this year.

From the pages of "The Seamstress"

2010-05-12T13:26:00.000-07:00

"Even the dullest, roughest muslin could be dyed, cut, and shaped into a fine dress if the right choices were made. Similar choices could turn the loveliest silk into a dimpled, snagged catastrophe. But individual fabrics, like people, had unique limitations and benefits. Some were tissue thin, lovely but fragile, undone by the smallest snag. Some were so closely woven that you could not see the fibers. Others were course, thick, and scratchy. There was no changing the character of the cloth. It could be cut, ripped, sewn into dresses or trousers or table settings, but no matter the form it took, a cloth always remained the same. Its true nature was fixed. Any good seamstress knew this."

From "The Seamstress" by Frances de Pontes Peebles. The novel follows two sisters and the different choices they make as coming-of-age women in Brazil from the late 1920's to the mid 1930's. A wonderful read.

Your Italy

2010-05-01T18:53:00.000-07:00

I want to see your Italy
where water washed colors
make me feel at home
in another country

Let me hear the swish of skirts
as ladies stroll across
cobbled streets on their way
to where ladies go on rainy afternoons

The carriages roll and people go
but the woman in the white dress waits
did she know she was the center
of your Italy?

You render graceful golden trees
and I wonder if there's
an umbrella for me
in your Italy.

*The painting is Maurice Prendergast's Monte Pincio, Rome, ca. 1898–99. It is part of the "Prendergast in Italy" exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston that I was able to see on Friday.

ladybugs & little girls

2010-04-13T13:48:00.000-07:00

little girls walk
stomp, stomp, stomp
through the tall green grass
stop

little girls freeze
still, still, still
in the tall green grass
a red ladybug

ladybugs climb
up, up, up
the tall green grass
where little girls play

little girls reach
slow, slow, slow
catching red ladybugs
in the tall green grass

little girls wish
bright secret dreams
skipping together
in the tall green grass

little girls and lady bugs
free, free, free
fly away home
while the sun sets gold

*The photo is of one of the ladybugs we brought home last night to live in the backyard. My daughter discovered them on a walk on the bayou with her cousins at Easter.

What's in Bloom?

2010-04-05T20:44:00.000-07:00

deep purple iris on good friday

blue iris on easter sunday

angel face rose from today

To walk outside in the spring means getting surprised by vivid colors and rare blooms. My eye looks for small green shoots coming out of the ground, or knobs of bright green along stems and branches. I run my fingers over smooth new leaves and wait for my favorites to come back to life. An earthworm found in a scoop of dirt is something to smile about and root bound plants are freed from last year's captivity. Cultivating beauty, appreciating life and color, watching for small changes every day makes me feel alive after too many days inside.

"He who loves a garden still his Eden keeps." Amos Bronson Alcott, 1868

A Poem for Holy Week

2010-03-28T20:08:00.000-07:00

Good Friday, Georgia O'Keefe

tumbleweed mesas cactus etcetera

Georgia O'Keefe picked flowers for the greenhouse
behind her scrimshaw face.

When she walked into the middle of the crucifixion no one noticed.
Eventually bystanders got bored and went home for lunch.

Stretched canvas.

Inspired but out of red paint,
Georgia squatted patient in the
crumbs of ten million champagne glasses
and looked up at this new kind of cactus.

Waiting for time to take its communion.
Waiting for bones.

from Gas Stations of the Cross
poems by Kathy Shaidle, 1990

* the image is Georgia O'Keefe's "Black Cross", 1929

Going, Going, Gone

2010-03-12T19:08:00.000-08:00

a southern girl, a summer girl
takes a while to know her girl
just when the curtain's going up
she's going, going, gone

sometimes bold and sometimes shy
quick to smile and quick to cry
just when I learn to read her eyes
she's going, going, gone

lady, princess, in command
young captain claiming new land
just when tide turns our way
she's going, going, gone

the brass ring and the diamond ring
she doesn't have to choose
I don't want to say goodbye, but
she's going, going, gone

Spring Beckons

2010-03-10T19:24:00.000-08:00

Customize a slideshow

This Just In

2010-03-01T16:39:00.000-08:00

An interesting development occured in a Houston neighborhood today when a 40-something Woman was confronted by her Inner Child. Sadly, the Woman didn't recognize her own younger self at the initial confrontation because it had been so long since they last spoke.

The Inner Child escaped from some kind of compound where she complained of being held against her will and unable to enjoy the light of day for quite some time. After being released, the Inner Child made serious accusations against the Woman. The Inner Child is quoted as saying, "You never play with me" and "You never take me anywhere."

The Woman is said to be reeling from the sudden appearance of her Inner Child. They spent the afternoon snapping photos and painting with watercolors. The Woman claims to have made a resolution to invite the Inner Child to more frequent playdates and was last seen at her kitchen table with purple glitter nail polish. Time will tell.

The photo is one of mine from the Villa de Matel in Houston

The Net

2010-02-04T06:32:00.000-08:00

Every morning
I cast my net
into the new day

I want to make a whole hearted
cast into a waiting tide
with unwavering trust

but most days the net
is thrown by a will
I don't recognize as my own

the hours are spent
catching, collecting
what moves in the current

and what will I pull up
at the end of the day?
only what you have given

a mysterious catch
fills the net
how much can I hold?

The one who willed me
to cast in the morning
will help me carry it home

Luke 5:4-7
When Jesus finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch." Simon answered, "Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets." When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink.

*Thank you to Caroline Ali for the image of "Wynken, Blynken & Nod"

19 Things

2010-01-30T18:57:00.000-08:00

I have always been a list maker. A skill learned from my mother and grandmother. In my purse are envelopes with short grocery lists, websites to visit, dates for the calendar, and the name of someone I should call. On my day off one of the first things I do is make a list of all the possibilities for the day. On Mondays, I update my on-going project list. In my journal, almost every other page is a list of some kind. Tonight, I'm having fun with my listing. Here are 19 things I have done in the past month.

1. Rang in the New Year on a cruise to Cozumel with family and 60 of my favorite teenagers.
2. Downloaded and rejected three different photo editing programs.
3. Spent a full morning making my bathroom sparkle.
4. Kept a weekly Sabbath.
5. Started Barbara Kingsolver's new novel, "The Lacuna."
6. Went to the funeral for my husband's grandmother.
7. Heard an amazing message by Father Leo Booth.
8. Filled out middle school applications for my daughter.
9. Passed through the wardrobe to Narnia.(via the Houston Museum in Sugarland)
10. Met a college friend for lunch.
11. Nurtured a new friendship.
12. Dreamed about Haiti.
13. Called my mom.
14. Read an article about environmental affects on gender formation.
15. Discovered Linda Pastan's poetry.
16. Made a valentine wreath for the front door.
17. Met girlfriends for breakfast.
18. Watched all my backyard plants freeze & turn brown.
19. Stood in the driveway to admire the moon.

Would love to see your "19 Things". Consider yourself tagged!

*The image is from New Year's in Cozumel

all the way down

2010-01-21T09:06:00.000-08:00

cherish the day
when i sit on the bridge
above the clear water
and see all the way down

leaves of all kinds
gather under the surface
making their own collage
of cut outs and curves

all is still
save one brave turtle
who came out of hiding
to glide across the silt

everything becomes clear
in the late afternoon
when I can see
all the way down

*The photo is one of mine from the Guadalupe River in November 2009.

What's Blooming in January?

2010-01-13T15:41:00.000-08:00

My garden has started a season of death & resurrection. Almost everything has frozen back. Last week, I found the Christmas cactus in a protected corner. It was covered in bright pink satin buds. After I brought it in the house, the warm air coaxed it into full bloom.

My Creed

2010-01-09T19:12:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow, I'll be helping a group of sixth graders write a creed as part of their Confirmation experience. Before I get up in front of the class, I thought I would write one of my own based on life in 2009 and looking forward to 2010.

I believe God comes to me in small moments that make all of my senses wake up...and those moments are chosen specifically so that I can recognize God's presence in me and around me.

I believe Jesus is a faithful companion who doesn't turn away from wrenching pain or circling slowness...he receives my praise with joy.

I believe the Holy Spirit stirs me to life and directs my gaze to people God wants me to see.

I believe the Bible moves like a cold clear river...quenching my thirst and cutting through the dry areas of life.

I believe the Church is where God is forming the next generation of faithful disciples who will be a changing and healing presence in the world.

I believe the Future is in God's hands...and holds many wonders and much beauty for those who are paying attention.

I look forward to posting the creed that is created tomorrow. Look for it in a few weeks.

The image is from Anthony Russo. Thank you.

A True Story

2009-12-26T05:32:00.000-08:00

When I was growing up in Corpus Christi, our family went to the candlelight service at the First Methodist Church.

One Christmas Eve, we watched as the Hill* family filed into the pew in front of us. I am not sure what Mr. Hill did for a living, but as a family, they exuded the sentiment, "we have arrived at the proper time, most properly dressed, and everyone has been instructed on proper behavior." Mrs. Hill swiveled her way into the pew.

In the previous year, Mrs. Hill hosted the youth group Superbowl Party in their home and based on the way she had us stand out in the front yard and wait for our parents after the game, I was pretty sure she would not be hosting the youth group again. So this is the woman we found ourselves sitting behind on Chrismtas Eve.

It was still a few minutes before the beginning of the service and we noticed that Mrs. Hill was getting agitated. Apparently she had mis-placed the candle that the usher had given her. First she checked with Mr. Hill and then each of her three daughters to see if they were holding it. When none of them had the candle, the search was on. She ducked down to look under the pew, she twisted side to side to look around her. She checked her large and expensive purse, and she looked behind the hymnals and bibles.

Seeing a woman who carries herself with such composure get flustered over a lost candle, made everyone in my pew smile. Her own family started to show amusement too, which convinced her that someone must have taken her candle. That sent my whole pew into stiffled laughter. The organ began the prelude. Mrs. Hill sighed and gave up the search.

We were drawn into the service and forgot about Mrs. Hill until it got time for the candle lighting. I glanced up to see that she had a candle, so all was well after all. Dad surprised me with a quick nudge. He pointed to the pew in front of us where Mrs. Hill had been sitting. I looked down and saw a candle neatly broken. She had been sitting on the missing candle the whole time!

Our shared laughter broke through the congregation's singing of "Silent Night" and the candlelighting and the reverence of it all. Many years and many Christmas Eve services have since passed, but it still remains a favorite Christmas Eve memory.

* The story is true, but I did change the family's name to "Hill". The candle light image is from this address: http://www.mbcokc.com/events/main_event.php

you keep me

2009-12-12T17:01:00.000-08:00

you keep me
tucked away in tiny places
with tiny thoughts
but i will resist smallness

you keep me
looking side to side
with measuring glances
but i will learn to see

you keep me
tempted with indulgence
filled only fleetingly
but i will push away

you keep me
safely and cooly distant
from the friend
but i will go anyway

you keep me
with stacks of gold
like a lonely king
but i will give it all

you will keep me no more tonight

*image is from a blog by David Kizer

Untitled

2009-11-30T19:37:00.000-08:00

some of our toys were given away
or thrown away
but some stayed

and we take them out of the box
every now and then
as if to play

i hold the doll, you fly the ship
we find pieces to an old puzzle
that no longer fits the same

were we really the little children
who climbed trees in the sun
and built forts when it rained?

some times we are lost to each other
given away and thrown away
faded, broken, and loved anyway

Thanks to Michaela Rae for the image found here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/michaelarae/80957770/

Thanksgiving

2009-11-20T09:06:00.000-08:00

she let me set the table
and I carried the plates
from the china cabinet
with both hands

I breathed turkey and dressing and love
as each fork,knife & napkin were placed
on a table cloth smoothed by her hands
hands that cupped my face for a kiss

the tea was made in the green pitcher
and ice clinked in the glassses
rolls were checked and gravy stirred
cranberries poured into the cut glass dish

extra chairs were cleared of fabric and yarn
and set around the oak table
that she saw in the paper and put on layaway
before any of us were born

the crowded table held the feast
there was a plate and a place for everyone
and there still is

*The photograph is by Sean Justice on gettyimages.com

What's Blooming this Fall?

2009-11-12T07:27:00.000-08:00

Make a Smilebox slideshow

the word

2009-10-28T20:17:00.000-07:00

i was mining for a word
to explain what i couldn't say

you reached into the place
where you keep your own words

words that you hammered
and picked for yourself

and now the word can
become mine too

your word is a key that unlocks
what i was unable to reach on my own

it is a strong and good word
maybe it shouldn't be mine

because i didn't hammer
and pick it for myself

you freely gave
what came to you at great cost

the word isn't diminished (and neither are you)
because in the imparting

it has a new place in which to grow
and a new life of its own

*the image of the uncut amethyst is from cjfundesigns.com

all around, all around

2009-10-15T11:30:00.000-07:00

all around, all around
the world comes to life

the white wing dove waits in the oak
seaching seeds below
wings beat against the still morning air
shaking branch and leaves

all around, all around
the world comes to life

the green hummingbird
darting with his rival
to claim the orange flowers
that crowd the back fence

all around, all around
the world comes to life

the new bloom opens
with movement unseen
petals uncurling against dark leaves
morning is here

all around, all around
the world comes to life

and I belong too
in the coming of the day
waiting with with the dove
hummingbirds rouse me

all around, all around
the world comes to life

*photo of the white wing dove is from Leesbird.com

Finally

2009-10-05T20:51:00.001-07:00

What the Woman
could finally
say to the Girl

it will be okay
even when your strength runs out
even though you won't know what to do next
even when you slog through a rough patch

and the Woman
could finally
say to the Girl

it is okay
to ask for help
to find yourself in in your own life
to learn new ways of taking care

It was a long time coming, but
the Woman
could finally
speak and share her own truth

*image is from flickr.com. Could not find the name of the photographer, but grateful for this photo.

The "Soft Touch"

2009-10-01T06:15:00.000-07:00

My dad's mother has it. The "soft touch." My Mema has a way with babies and children. When I was a child, I watched her calm a fussy little one with a quiet song. Something about her brings peace to the room. She crocheted afgans that gave comfort when we were away from her. The chief activity of her life has been nurturing; as wife, mother, grandmother, sister, and friend.

My dad has the "soft touch" too. Playing barefoot as a kid meant stepping on splinters and thorns. Dad had his way of taking them out painlessly. When he taught my brother and I to swing the bat or throw the football, he always said, "nice and easy." I hear his soft touch when he strums his guitar and in the gentle voice he uses with my kids.

The soft touch is not demanding, not controlling. The soft touch is smooth and relaxed. It's a physical touch, but also a manner, a gentle way.

For the past three days, I have heard a handful of stories of refugees around the world. Stories of how people overcame hardship to survive and make a new life. Stories about the continued struggle for food and water and a safe place to sleep. My heart is softened and I think about my grandmother and my dad. I think about how much the "soft touch" is needed in the world. A touch that welcomes, nurtures, comforts, and heals.

A pastor friend once told me, "I'd rather be known for being a little soft in the heart than a little hard in the heart."

Today, the words of Graham Kendrick are my prayer:

Soften my heart, Lord
Soften my heart
From all indifference
Set me apart
To feel your compassion
To weep with your tears
Come soften my heart, O Lord
Soften my heart

* The image is from Bob Gibbs Photo's Gallery

What's Blooming in September?

2009-09-25T06:40:00.000-07:00

Make a Smilebox slideshow

The Princess and her Brother

2009-09-23T14:36:00.000-07:00

There was once a Princess who decided to flee her castle and escape from the kingdom that was her home. The Princess was unhappy because she could not live under the rule of her brother, the Prince, any longer. She was afraid of him.

Night after night, she would sneak away from the castle and run through the moonlit woods. Each time, her brother searched for her and insisted that the Princess return to the castle.

The Princess tried again to escape, but her brother knew what she was up to. He was close behind her and closing in. The Princess stopped between two trees. The trees were out in the open, and the Princess had no hope that she was hidden, but a strange thing happened. The Prince was right next to her and he couldn't see her. The Princess thought to herself, "I've become invisible. My brother can't see me."

The Princess saw a wise Woman from the castle walking into the clearing and straight towards her. The Woman could see the Princess even though the Prince could not. The Princess was afraid that the Woman would give her away, but she didn't. The Woman walked just next to the Princess and said, "I know you want to run away, and I understand why, but your brother cannot rule without you."

The Princess revealed herself to her brother. She sunk to the ground, wrapped her arms around his boots and cried. The Princess begged her brother to forgive her for trying to run away. She asked him to not send her away from her home.

The Prince said, "I will never send you away. I never wanted you to go."

With their alliance restored, the Prince and the Princess, the brother and the sister, ruled wisely and well.

*The image is from TwistedTeen's photostream on Flickr. The story comes from a dream I had last night.

Henry's Creek

2009-08-27T09:48:00.000-07:00

Henry's creek ran fast
a good distance from the house
he shared with Ruth

close enough for me to bring the kite we made
brother dug the worms
daddy carried the fishing poles

we caught the same
puckered mouth perch
standing barefoot on the muddy shore

speaking loudest was the water
as it rippled and rolled
across smooth rocks

we had to jump in
wading at first
then carried by the current

even now
there's hardly a finer way
to spend an afternoon

*Remembering childhood visits to Ruth & Henry Lewis's home in Medina, Texas. The photo of the Medina River is from Jim Wisecaver.

watching the sky

2009-08-22T16:55:00.000-07:00

the hawk circles
morning and evening
against bright summer blue

riding in the car
i look up
just in time to see her

wings stretching full span
looking effortless
from my window

she descends only
when hunger brings her
or nightfall summons

beautiful and wild
does she have any idea
how majestic she is?

*The image is from stokesbirdingblog.blogspot.com.

What's Blooming?

2009-08-10T20:04:00.000-07:00

Make a Smilebox photobook

Photos are from my backyard except the couple taken at the Houston Zoo. Every morning there is something beautiful to see (and water and weed).

Serendipity

2009-08-08T20:18:00.000-07:00

Said to me at a birthday party today...

"I want to live in the kind of neighborhood where I can walk to my best friend's house and have a glass of wine in the evening."

Me too.

what used to fit

2009-07-29T15:45:00.000-07:00

what used to fit
has now lost
its shape
and it's color

and i can't bring myself
to pitch it
in the heap
just yet

how many unthinking times
have i put on the old?
sliding my arms into
fading ease and comfort

until today
i saw myself
from a blurred distance
wrestling free

*image is from jessicacook.com

new places

2009-07-05T13:53:00.000-07:00

we've covered miles of unfamiliar terrain
some things we saw just once
others we circle again and again
now you've opened the door and
i'm going new places with you

you ask me to dance in the fading light
i try to sit this one out
but you never let me get far from your sight
now we're circling the floor and
i'm going new places with you

just when i think there's nothing new around here
a road that's been hidden
emerges for us, and it's suddenly clear
i run to the door because
i'm going new places with you

*image is from fotosearch.com

What's Blooming?

2009-07-03T15:54:00.000-07:00

Make a Smilebox photobook

Laura's Farmhouse

2009-06-19T07:44:00.000-07:00

we left the city in the morning
for the drive that curved
through yellow flowers

Solomon the bull
was almost red in the light
handsome and proud

all around were wild woods
where shadows and sun played
on brush, vine and hay

the back porch was just the right
distance from the fence
for shooting at cans

a swing for two
shaded our whispers
where we spun hopeful stories

inside was unfinished and drafty
light-filled and love-settled
a field mouse found me

on the fence a milk weed
set loose her seeds to float
on a lazy southern breeze

life was different there
how much I loved
Laura's farmhouse

*image is from whitegriffinphotography

Invitation

2009-06-11T20:06:00.000-07:00

i am always
wanting to slip into
an unwatched hour with you

a hand-carved pause
so our stories might
tangle and twine

i sense you waiting
for me to walk away
from what's kept me 'til now

your love beckons
across an ordinary day
and I run to you

*Image by Laura Henno.

What's for Dinner?

2009-05-30T17:52:00.001-07:00

The pleasure of a good meal with good company is one of my favorite things life has to offer. Here is a list of my very favorites in no particular order:

1. Giordano's Pizza in Chicago. I feasted there with good friends & comrades on a Willowcreek Student Minsitry conference. Stuffed pizza is absolutely the best.

2. Cheesecake Factory in Houston. I've been fortunate enough to go on a few double dates to this wonderful spot. Always save room for dessert!

3. Buca de Beppo in San Diego. This time a Youth Specialties conference. Introduced me to the wonders of Bruschetta.

4. The Melting Pot in Houston. Many birthdays have been celebrated over the fondue pot, including my 40th last December with dear friends.

5. Wagon Train in Port Lavaca, Texas. These people know how to do bacon cheeseburgers. Shared several good lunches with a mentor here.

6. Lufkin BBQ on Chestnut Street. Discovered this little place while on a mission trip. Sweet tea, chopped beef sandwich and fried rolls while you wait...Heaven!

7. Taste of Texas in Houston. Love to celebrate valentine's with my honey every year with their baked brie, marinated steak skewer, and cinnamon coffee.

8. Amberjack's in South Padre Island. Led me to discover the fish tacos in all their glory. My honey & I sat on the porch at sunset and watched the stars come out.

9. Maria's New Mexican Kitchen in Santa Fe. Another family vacation took us to check out this little place. Blue corn tortillas, red & green salsa...out of this world!

10. L & M Cafe in Georgetown, Texas. It was the best country breakfast in the world after an all-nighter during my years at Southwestern University.

11. The Gristmill in Gruene, Texas. Been fortunate enough to celebrate weekends away with girlfriends and my 10th wedding anniversary in this Texas Eden. Love their peppercorn steak, round cut fries, & brownie Sunday with strawberries. Over looking the Comal River with an evening breeze, this is a great spot for lingering well after the table's been cleared.

Flowers for Mother

2009-05-11T13:55:00.001-07:00

Make a Smilebox slideshow

These are photos of what was in bloom on Mother's Day. The stargazers are on the kitchen table...given not grown. The purple bouganvilla belongs to a neighbor down the street.

My Companion

2009-05-05T17:03:00.000-07:00

how many walks have we taken?

to observe the unfolding day

sorting out life and love

and just when the air gets

too warm, too still, too heavy

the breeze comes to cool us

we lift our faces

anticipating the fresh air

across cheek and neck

glistening color calls out to us

blossoms send sweet fragrance over worn fences

thistles catch ankles and tall grass teases

waiting for the breeze

I'll keep walking with you

my companion for all days

* the photo shows the bayou where we often walk.

How to Go on a Walk with a Five-year-old Boy

2009-04-28T11:32:00.000-07:00

Run out the front door

Rescue earth worms from big water puddle in front of the house

Find a good stick & head down the street

Stir up ant bed

Use finger to write name in mud

Collect different kinds of mud and mash them together

Smell jasmine growing on a fence

Take turns jumping over a drainage ditch full of water

Pick up a piece of shredded tire for pocket

Ask mom to hold mud

Pick up a piece of blue glass for pocket

Throw acorn into the street

Climb on fence

Try to catch a sparrow

Stop to feel breeze

Slide feet in mud

Stomp through puddles

Wipe hands on shirt

Smell magnolia blossom

Wave at fire truck

Rescue more earthworms

Run home for a hot bath

I used to be 10

2009-04-25T13:05:00.001-07:00

Before I was forty, I used to be ten

and played outside in the sun and the wind

sometimes up in a tree with my little brother

or by myself (if I wasn't in the kitchen with my mother).

Asking lots of questions for me was a given

at church and school with anyone who would listen.

I didn't settle for the simple and the pat

my mind was too curious to be satisfied with that.

When I was ten, I began to see a new norm

girls were starting to dress to conform.

So I begged for a closet of duplicate wear

and even went out and cut my hair.

At ten I saw my first movie rated "r"

on the way home it was pretty quiet in the car.

My eyes saw scenes that were strangely new

and complex aspects of life came into view.

Some friends at school cheated on a spelling test

and I convinced them that telling the truth would be best.

In the library I faithfully checked out Nancy Drew

my best friend read right along with me too.

Grandmother time was on the weekend

she loved me like one of her own dear friends.

We listened to trains and told stories in the dark

then got up for church down the street at Oak Park.

Being ten was truly a golden age

before life got to the next complicated stage.

And forty has gifts of it's own kind,

memories from ten, which have not lost their shine.

A girl's confidence in her own voice is usually at an all-time high just before puberty. This is the time of life when girls are most apt to be in touch with their personal truth...Given our culture, a girl's inner voice isn't apt to reach this level of clarity or self-assurance again until she goes through menopause. p. 314-315 Christiane Northrup's Mother-Daughter Wisdom

Ten to eleven year old girls are very clear about what they like and don't like. They'll tell you what's on their minds. This is when children often find and commit to art, poetry, sports, dance, or other creative outlets that hold the key to their future vocation. p. 441 Christiane Northrup's Mother-Daughter Wisdom

Some photos from the back yard this morning

2009-04-23T06:54:00.000-07:00

Make a Smilebox slideshow

What is Joy?

2009-04-22T11:14:00.001-07:00

Joy is the amarillis
petals deep and red

open and lifted

she is striking against

the concrete and clay

her blossom would not be held

underground and unfurled

life too strong to be denied

a hopeful gardner planted her

and he will not be disappointed

sheer and silent joy

blooms for him

*The amarillis in the photo bloomed on my back porch on Good Friday.

Knock, knock, it's my feelings

2009-03-19T20:46:00.000-07:00

Learning to notice & acknowledge feelings is like hearing a knock on the door after midnight and letting in a half-stranger...or an odd aquaintance.

Ever gotten tangled in your own emotions? Here's my feelings-rant:

1. There are too many. It's like opening a box of fairies...or bats.

2. Feelings are counter-productive. How am I supposed to get anything done?

3. Feelings make me vulnerable. (sigh)

4. I can't control them.

5. They are not reasonable or logical.

6. My feelings inconvenience other people.

7. Feelings mess with my appearance of having it all together.
8. I could get stuck in my feelings...especially the shadowy ones.

9. Fear of narcissism.

10. It's hard to honor someone's feelings when they conflict with mine.

11. I can't always discern what I'm feeling.

Here's what Annie Dillard suggests:

"It would seem that emotions are the curse, not death-emotions that appear to have developed upon a few freaks as a special curse from Malevolence. All right then. It is our emotions that are amiss. We are freaks, the world is fine, and let us all go have lobotomies to restore us to a natural state. We can leave the library then, go back to the creek lobotomized, and live on its banks as untroubled as any muskrat or reed. You first."

Confession

2009-03-03T17:45:00.000-08:00

forgive me

i turned the pages too quickly in your book today

looking for what i wanted to find

a little wary about what might find me instead

and a smidge worried i wouldn't understand what you were

trying to say

forgive me

when i gorge on all the words that say you love me

about how precious i am and all that

but then skim over the parts about somebody poor

and outcast and lonely and needy

and how i am part and parcel of them too

forgive me

when i fill myself with other things

that starve and fatten, depending

i don't even begin to know

my own hunger pains

because i'm light-headed and heavy-hearted

forgive me

for walking across your pages

in my wandering roundabout way

with gold-edged pages

clinging to my legs

as i step an circuitous path

forgive me

the days pass too quickly

and the night lulls me

i didn't save you a spot

i didn't set the table for two

will you come anyway?

Bryan Ward 1969-2009

2009-02-03T15:57:00.000-08:00

In 5th grade Bryan sat behind me in homeroom since he was a "W" and I was a "T."
He borrowed my scissors in Mrs. Gallegos class and I got in trouble for asking for them back.
We passed more notes than anyone can count.
In 7th grade Bryan labeled his Texas history salt map with his mother's nail polish.
In 8th grade he read my poems and asked for copies.
He borrowed my American History notes, even though he didn't need them.
Bryan carried a comb in his back pocket to ensure perfectly "feathered" hair.
His glasses made his eyes bluer.
I cheered for him on the football field.
My brother ran with him in cross country.
We danced at school dances.
Our senior year, we had the gift of being in Coach Woodard's biology class & Mrs. Stone's English.
He always told me when I was over the line...way over the line.
Lots of hugs, but not a kiss.
His dad got Huntington's Disease.
Bryan thought about getting tested.
He went to Texas Lutheran University.
He joined the Army and fought in Dessert Storm.
Symptoms started...it was Huntington's.
I married and started my family.
He drove to the house to say good bye.
We sat in the study and he told me that he didn't mind
losing his freedom,
losing his memory,
losing his intelligence,
losing his mobility,
because none of those made him who he really was.
His soul was golden.
He told me about his home in Heaven.
And he is there tonight.
And one day, I'll see him again to talk about old times.

Wondering

2009-02-03T15:24:00.000-08:00

Who is upstairs?

Princess? or madwoman in the attic?

Guess it depends on the book I read

The click of the key in the lock

Locking me in? or setting me free?

Guess it depends on who holds the key

Store up for the winter?

Or jettison the cargo?

Guess it depends on the journey

Where is my pillar of cloud?

And his pillar of fire?

Guessing, guessing, guessing

I click my heels three times

Take me home

Mommy will be there in just a minute

2009-01-28T18:09:00.000-08:00

Down the hallway a young voice called my name

not my name really, but Mommy,

which is my name to him, all the same

I kept wiping the crumbs from the counter space

trying to hold on to my thoughts

there in kitchen's quiet place

Carried the trash to the back door

remembered there was mail still in the box

hoped he could wait a little more

On the driveway I walked slowly down

seeing shadows of ash trees

and stars that shined through and around

Across the street is my neighbor's house

his dear wife left us last week

there is no more mother, no more spouse

But a mother lives in my home still

and a little boy calling my name

guess I'll step in now, from tonight's evening chill

Anxiety

2009-01-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

what are you doing here?

slinking through my own backyard

in the middle of the night

your howl mixes with my dreams

can't a girl get some peace and quiet?

you should have been gone by now

but morning came and you kept your watch

holding still behind the cover of leaves

stalking my peace

won't you tell me who sent you?

you fled when I chased you

and I'm certainly not going to wait

on you hand and foot

or follow your dusty trail

tonight, I'm closing the gate

Mental Flexibility & Creativity Challenge

2008-12-21T14:38:00.000-08:00

A teacher gave me this quiz in school and I thought it was gone forever until my mom gave me a box of my "things" last summer. The quiz showed up in the box and I thought I'd give it another spin. Good luck!

Instructions: Each questions contains the initials of words that will make it a correct phrase. Find the missing words,

Example: 12 = M in the Y
Answer: 12 = Months in the Year

26 = L of the A
7 = W of the W
1001 = A N
12 = S of the Z
54 = C in the D
8 = P in the S S (W P)
88 = PK
13 = S on the A F
32 = D F at which W F
18 = H on a G C
90 = D in a R A
200 = D for P G in M
8 = S on a S S
3 = B M (S H T R)
4 = Q in a G
24 = H in a D
1 = W on a U
5 = D in a ZC
57 = H V
1000 = W that a P is W
11 = P on a F T
29 = D in F in a L Y
64 = S on a C B

Her Love

2008-12-08T20:17:00.000-08:00

her love is a yellow chair

beneath the curves of the oak tree

her love is curve of the oak tree

where doves seek shelter

her love is the seeking dove

who sings into the morning silence

her love is the song

that finds its way to me every hour

her love is the hour

that stretches to take in the impossible

her love is the impossible, the beautifully impossible

that rests in the yellow chair

the red fox

2008-11-14T09:35:00.000-08:00

my soul like the red fox runs

it flashes and is gone

disappearing down

a midnight trail

of milky darkness

stop! don't shine the light

wait in silent stillness

watch the trees for movement

use your body to sense

approaching footfall and leveling gaze

there in the clearing

the red fox waits

now go!

and don't tell anyone what you saw

the difficult years

2008-10-24T10:39:00.000-07:00

these are the difficult years

when you look in the mirror

blind to your own beauty

and I can't make you see through my eyes anymore

these are the difficult years

when you brush your hair with angry strokes

unsatisfied with wisps and imperfection

and I can't smoothe it anymore

these are the difficult years

when you stand in front of your closet

trying to fit in or stand out (depending on the day)

and I can't help you choose anymore

these are the difficult years

when you step into your own

discovering your own glorious wonder

and I won't hold you back anymore

False Self Strikes Again

2008-10-06T15:35:00.000-07:00

My companion must have stepped out

I swear she was here just a minute ago.

She usually handles these sorts of things for me

analyzing

solving

soothing

motivating

She keeps me from

absorbing

raging

breaking

crying

I'm sure she'll be back any minute

kicking

punching

pinching

and charming me again.

Can Trees Walk?

2008-09-24T19:18:00.000-07:00

Can a tree walk?

Can she kick her rooted feet

right out of the ground?

Can untamed growth burst on the outside

with power greater than what held it in place?

Can a tree shake leaves into a cascading cloud?

as if to say, I'm not holding still any more.

Can bare roots stomp across the dirt

and make their thirsty way to new water?

Could a tree invite the wind

to blow lifeless limbs away

and keep only what is alive?

Can unyielding branches

learn to dance?

Is it possible for her to claim her own season?

not waiting for someone else to tell her

when it's summer.

She can burst into the full bloom of spring

even as fall winds stir and spin.

Yes, a tree can walk.

Thursday

2008-09-04T14:26:00.000-07:00

scattered and spent

i stagger

scrambled and scouting
i seek

silent and solitary

i sink

sensing and sifting
i settle

surrendered and surrounded
i soak

stirred and strengthened
i stand

salvaged and sanctified
i soar

The Cup

2008-08-25T19:26:00.000-07:00

the cup

slipped

from my hands

and broke

into

a thousand pieces

each shard a memory

of the whole

i pick up each sliver

as if it can tell a story

if i hear the

thousand stories

that were in that cup

if i can hold them

with gentle expectation

and not leave them scattered

on the cold floor

perhaps we can both be

whole again

Your Secret

2008-08-15T07:15:00.000-07:00

I've been holding your secret

Your secret is a bird trying to escape from my chest

Wings extending into my ribs and beak pointed at my throat

Your secret is a shining bracelet

that snags on my shirt, begging attention

Your secret is a discreetly packed suitcase

are you coming to re-claim it?

Your secret is a delicate shell in my bucket

that would break with a crooked look

Your secret is locked and bound,

not in me, but in you

Your secret is a prayer

that you can't find the words for

When you laid your secret in the air between us,

what did you hope for?

I'll be holding your secret

until you take it to yourself again

Her Smile

2008-08-03T15:17:00.000-07:00

She tried to smile

but her mouth got pulled

into a grimace

lips thin and stretched

over bared teeth

and eyes too wide

not like someone

who had a face lift

but more like the kind of smile

when you are trying to remember

how to smile

maybe the kind of smile

when you have tried for

too long to hide what's inside

or the kind of smile you

give when you suspect you

are being lied to

or a smile that limps

like someone home from war

injured, but no one saw it happen

I turned away

from her painful smile

but still I remember.

Prayer of Wheat and Weeds

2008-07-02T19:45:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

Give me wheat
Take the weeds

What I'm asking is...

Give me nourishment

Take the things that leave me famished

Give me that which sustains

Take what leaves me disoriented

Give me what is valuable and lasting

Take my disolving treasure

And You decide what is wheat and what is weed...

...since I can't always tell the difference

Amen

Matthew 13:24-30 NRSV

24 He put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; 25 but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. 26 So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. 27 And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, "Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?' 28 He answered, "An enemy has done this.' The slaves said to him, "Then do you want us to go and gather them?' 29 But he replied, "No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. 30 Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.' "

River of Words

2008-06-26T19:26:00.000-07:00

My mind is a running river

Words rush under the surface

Rolling like pebbles on the bottom

I'm pulling out one word

When I was reaching to grab another

Then I see you

Cast your net in the river

And draw out stories and songs

You give words to what

I've longed to say

You encourage me to keep reaching for words

My hands are slippery

I can't trust my eyes

But when you pull your story from the current

I open my hands to find a story too

Oh, to believe it is possible!

Back in the Saddle...

2008-06-25T15:22:00.000-07:00

A friend tagged me with the following literary Meme

The rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you."

A cold tremor of fear passed over him. He got to his feet with an instinctive desire to run away. Then he realized this was impossible; he could not run away from himself. --The Silver Chalice by Thomas Costain

If you read this, consider yourself tagged (and leave me a comment so I know to go read your post)

"Brother"

2008-06-04T14:11:00.000-07:00

baby brother

playing napping

hugging

carries blanket everywhere

Riley

This poem was written by my daughter about her little brother when she was in kindergarten.

The Letter

2008-05-16T20:18:00.000-07:00

I want to write a letter and say,

I will miss you,

I've already been missing you,

and I think in the grand scheme of things,

we've always missed each other.

You used to ask me questions,

and never wait for the answer.

You used to give invitations,

then never pick up when I called.

You used to say meet here,

but it aways changed to there.

I kept at it, thinking ...

sooner or later this will become a friendship.

If you weren't packed up and leaving,

we would just keep missing each other,

we would just keep acting as if

there was something to miss.

I loved who we pretended to be.

Walking Clouds

2008-03-07T12:08:00.000-08:00

On Fridays I go to an exercise class where I am the beginner surrounded by people who are on average about 70 years old. There's something good about being in a room of grandparents and great-grandparents. They are at least 2 decades ahead of me. I've learned that my classmates spend time with friends, schedule holidays with children & family, pursue hobbies, and keep a keen eye on their health. Immersed in such a crowd, I am getting a picture of graceful aging.

Yesterday we did a move called "Walking Clouds" where we take a small step to the left and a small step to the right, while circling our arms across the front. Moving hands and feet is challenge enough for this novice, but our Instructor has been training us to breathe in time with the movements as well.

Exhale while moving left. Inhale while moving right...or vice versa. (Like I said, I am a beginner!) Here's what happened: Before I finish the step and the arm circle, my lungs fill up, but I can't exhale until I start the next movement. So I found myself holding my breath until my body caught up. That fixes the problem of exhaling too soon, but creates a lot of discomfort while holding my breath.

When I asked my Instructor about this after class, she said it is very common to have a longer exhale than inhale and that over time my lung capacity would increase and my breathing would even out. Then she told me that to go ahead and pause between breaths...and use it as a moment to rest between movements. Consciously resting is different that making the effort to hold onto a breath that is ready to escape.

I'm always looking for how the gentle movements of tai chi can point me to something going on in my spiritual life. Here's the quote from Richard Rohr that tied this one together for me,

"...we are growing up as we move through the texts (scriptures) and deepen our experience. God does not change, but our readiness for such a God takes a long time to change. Stay with the text and with your inner life with God and your capacity for God will increase and deepen."

With practice and attentiveness, my lung capacity will increase...I will be able to take in more air and rest between breaths. And if I trust in the words of Richard Rohr, with the same kind of practice and attentiveness, my capacity and readiness for God will increase and deepen.

Eulogy for a Rose Bush

2008-02-27T19:39:00.000-08:00

I sought you out on Valentine's Day
With gloved hands and pruning shears
My darling under the south window

Your companions to the right and left
In floral anticipation of warmer days
Sent out new red leaves

But not you...only brittle brown canes
Some promising buds, yet
It was too soon to tell

But now I know...no more leaves, no more blooms
No more gathering your abundant flowers
To grace my kitchen window sill

You were my favorite, the most fragrant
And now you are gone
I don't even know your proper name

The rose isn't the only one who is gone
There is another love missing from my Valentines
And from my Spring

How can it be I lost you both in the same year?
Are you blooming for her in heaven?
Is it too much to wonder?

Ditch Lilies

2008-02-17T19:33:00.000-08:00

Bulbs thrown from wagon or carriage

on someone's journey across the south

in hopes of lightening the load

but they weren't lost forever

come spring the ditches are in full bloom

from Georgia to Texas

a ditch can help us rememer

beauty doesn't go away even when discarded

it will be there for someone else to see

lilies in my great grandmother's garden

and my grandmother's garden

now in my mother's garden

and someday in mine