Summer Solstice

The sun rises high 

into the deep, blue sky, 

the yellow orb hovering 

pouring out its light. 

Summer has arrived, 

the trees are lush and full, 

birds fly from the branches, 

in the tall grass, rabbits gather, 

mouths busily munching on green shoots. 

It’s that time when we shed 

clothing as a snake sheds skin,

exposing ourselves to rays of light.

The days grow long, 

an older couple sit out on the porch 

watching as the sun slowly travels 

a reflection of their long life together. 

The journey they started so long ago 

having reached its zenith, 

now begins to settle into the twilight, 

as they hold hands. 

Loves journey, rising like the summer sun, 

giving light and life  

to a dark and cold world.

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My Prayer

The early morning sun shines through the window,

I lay there listening to the morning noises,

wondering what this day will bring.

At times I cringe, thinking of what horrors we face.

Humanity’s flaws on display,

a daily litany of broken bodies and souls.

I look at the trees, foliage lush and green,

the flowers, colorful and bright, 

why can’t we see the Holy in these sights,

why do we close our eyes to loves joys?

My heart feels heavy within the walls of my being.

I pray, for open eyes to see,

open ears to hear,

open heart to feel.

Dear Lord, I pray,

break down the barriers I created,

so that I may become,

your instrument of peace,

a healer of the broken,

a lover of tortured souls.

For I am also one in need,

of your life giving Spirit.

Orlando 

My poor attempt at trying to make sense of the senseless. Others have written about Orlando much more eloquently than I could ever do, but like many, I to seek a way to express my feelings. As always, I reach out to God, not to come in like a fairy godmother who magically erases all of our anger, but to change my heart to see in this nightmare a glimpse of God’s love. 

It happened again,

people enjoying life,

embracing one another,

dancing and singing.

Suddenly, the world turned,

a darkness overshadowed,

the joy they shared.

We are now once again,

looking to blame rather than,

seeking a place to mourn.

The blood of the innocent,

cry out for justice not vengeance.

Yet, there are the living who,

remain deaf to those cries.

My own heart breaks,

as I look out on so few,

who really desire to be,

present to God, whom they

easily blame, turning their

backs when busyness,

overtakes their lives.

The dark shadows stretch

out over the hearts of many,

yet each day brings with it,

the promise that we will

one day wake up from our

self created nightmare,

discovering that all along

peace and paradise have always,

been there, a glimmer of hope

on the horizon of our souls. 

Love’s Ties

They lay there naked,

like Adam and Eve, there is no shame.

They know one another, every curve,

every flaw, yet in that moment,

they are at peace.

Some might say,

they’re to old for passion,

that fire went out so long ago,

but they both know the embers, 

that glow deep within,

a mere breath and sparks, 

become fire and passion,

takes hold. Bodies melding,

hearts racing, love binding.

They know of a deep secret,

that comes with knowing,

every flaw, every scar on

each other. Those seen,

those hidden deep within,

those they share each day.

Six Word Stories

 What can one say using just six words? This is something that I have been doing for awhile, writing just six word stories. “In the dark, they reached out,” six words that convey the need for one another especially when darkness descends, reaching out to touch and know love. To describe a scene, an emotion in six words, for me, takes time as I allow the words to float within my mind. Arranging them just right, hoping that in some small measure that they make sense when read by others. These six word stories also help me to focus on the use of words. Words are powerful and there are times when too many words can overwhelm the senses. When that happens we shut down and the words find a barrier too huge to get through. Yet, if we choose our words economically, testing them in our own thoughts by using them judiciously, then the thoughts and ideas get through. This is especially true in this time and age where the average attention span seems to be getting less and less.

Describing how I feel in just six words has given me a new platform to explore my deepest self. In six simple words I delve into the darkest depths and at times come up with a treasure that I never knew existed. “Her kisses, lingered on his lips,” that soft touch of two people as they depart for the day, or maybe for a lifetime. Remembrances of old loves, lost lives, of another time and place, in just six words. “Grace, that moment of knowing love,” it comes to me in patches, sometimes the words just form themselves at other times I need to puzzle them out. 

In a way maybe that is grace in action, helping me to cut through the clutter that is all around, to see in the mess, the joy of life. Six words, to describe inner feelings, six words to enter into a new place, another chamber as I dig through the layers of my life. It’s a challenge to write using only six words but what I have found is a new freedom to be expressive as well as creative. 

 “His hand touched her soft skin,” a poem of love, of connecting to another through the simple act of touch. Lips meeting, bodies holding, love in all of its boundless glory reaching out in faith to embrace the goodness of life. For me, the wholeness of my humanity is found in all that I love and hold dear. In six words my love is opened up for all to see, in six words I feel the depths of my own failures and fears, yet I also feel the yearning to live in the sunlight of Gods love. 

 Six simple words, sometimes that’s all it takes to build bridges, to create new connections, to find deeper meaning. Six words to convey our deepest feelings, our greatest joys and our need for each other. 

One Year

 A year has come and gone as I sit here reflecting on all that has come my way. Last year was a challenging one and not just because of the accident. Getting hit by that car door, falling to the ground, feeling and hearing my hip crack like an old, dried out limb, was a heart opening experience. For the first time I was forced into a period of stasis, waiting the days out as my body slowly healed itself. Lying in bed, waking up in the early morning hours, listening to the birdsong just outside my window, that still, small voice echoing along the crevices of my mind. It is in these moments, when we are challenged, that can define who we are. I’m not a huge fan of the so called “bucket list,” because that assumes something tangible that can be accomplished if only we live just right and do what is necessary. However, having such a list can and does distract us from the here and now, of being fully present in the moment. We fail to notice the small moments of grace, the sight of the sun rising in the morning, the gentle sound of rain as it waters the parched land. Moments of intimacy and love that are there for a brief time then, like a wisp of smoke, disappear into the day.

 A year later and I am doing better although not fully healed. Truth be told, I’m not all that angry anymore, it’s now cooled to being slightly disappointed. Sure, it would be nice to have my hip back in its original condition, no daily aches, no struggles going up and down stairs, but I am here, alive. In those moments of quiet and solitude, that still, small voice could be heard and that calling to write became clearer. Not that I’m going to produce the next great American novel, but just write. Write about life, about what I see in and around me. Write about love, in all of its wonder as I watch my grandchildren as they make their way in life. Love between Jane and I as we move into a new chapter in our own lives, discovering anew the passion that lies like an ember deep within our hearts. 

On this morning, as I write, a light rain is falling, the air is warm as the birds sing their own songs of praise. I realize that moments like these do pass and that the daily struggles will be still be there, reminders that life is at times messy. Yet, I am ever grateful for each moment that I have, in the love I share with Janie and my family, and for the friends I have made along the way.