Archive | November, 2018

Yellow Rose

8 Nov

In the garden of remembering,
a lovely yellow rose,
the anchor of all that lives and grows,
has slowly succumbed go the calendar’s call.
The brilliance of Spring is the shadow of Fall.

No matter the effort to hold back the clock,
I reluctantly concede
that the hands have raced forward with merciless speed
obscuring the faces that blessed my fine days
before the descent of this gradual haze.

I do not ask for sorrow or tears.
I have no need for gloom.
Somewhere within these darkening rooms
there lives a lovely yellow rose
whose petals will never completely close.


He Knows A Thing Or Two Because…

7 Nov


Some people say he looks lonely,
standing there alone among all
the healthy, young growth.
But, he knows he is surrounded
by vibrant life.  And he is at peace.

Some say he is old and of no value,
but everyday tender voices rise
from the lush new growth around him:
“Grandfather, tell us
again about…”

A hiker commented the other day:
“Look at that ugly thing among all
the lovely green life.”
But just then a hawk detoured
off her early morning hunt to
circle the elegant artistry.
Round and round
she flew and each
time she sang a
song of grateful

Once I heard that people planned
to cut him down.  Eyesore.
Doesn’t fit the land anymore.
But Life rose in deliberate
“No!” said the yellow wild flowers.
“No!” called out the Mesquites,
long stretches of dry wash sand,
birds that heard the threat,
coyotes, nested owls,
reptiles, rocks still
exposed by recent
torrential rains.
In one clear and certain voice,
Creation said “No!”

The tree of majestic memory, bare
and brittle, swayed gently in
the caressing wind.  He seemed to all
around to shine ever so slightly.

“Time,” he said.  “Time.”


5 Nov

No chrysalis, by its design,
constrains the power of life.
Contained within that darkened place
away from haste and strife,
a life form slowly finds its way
into the sacred Light.


And when the moment finally comes,
cracking sounds are heard
across the wide expanse of time,
the speaking of a Word
that splits the fabric, rolls the stone,
a miracle occurred.


A chrysalis, like ancient tombs,
is not a stopping place.
It is a path by which life moves,
evolves and, by God’s grace,
emerges as a radiant being
to bless the human race.


Today I sit in wondrous awe.
In this unlikely thing
was once a creature forced to crawl
who now unfolds her wings
and floats into the crystal sky.
O God, the joy she brings!

A Drop of Grace

3 Nov

In the somber evening of this overcast day,
while walking among the ancient sentinels
at the base of a shadow etched canyon,
I felt the touch of a single droplet of
moisture on my arm.  Slight touch.
Gentle touch.

The stately saguaros tuned to watch my reaction.
A gray dove, snuggled in the arms of
a weathered mesquite tree, offered a
deep throated purring sound as a gift
to the moment.  Her audible mummer
resembled what I imagine a smile would
project if it could be heard.

Instead of beading and falling to the
ground, the transparent droplet spread
in shape and size, moving toward my hand
and my shoulder at the same time.
I stopped.  Everything stopped.  The
universe paused.  Creation took a
deep breath and witnessed an extraordinary
encounter.  A single droplet bathed the
moment and me.

One drop from the enormity of universal
Mystery, from a Heart that in the sacred
moment beat in unison with my own,
one minuscule, momentous drop caressed
skin and soul with exuberant awareness,
unsteadiness like the plates of earth shifting,
deep joy, startling  connection.

One small drop of Grace is almost more
that a human being can bear.

The Missing Piece

2 Nov
You just never know who you will meet on an early morning walk. My challenge for this good day is to make sense of one piece of a much larger jig-saw puzzle.  I have one piece because of a random, chance meeting around the corner from my house.  Actually, Maggie made the discovery first, but after sniffing, she concluded that it was nothing to eat and she was ready to move on. But I take this fortuitous meeting as a challenge.  What can I make of this day with only a fraction of the big picture?  I never know for sure what any day will bring, but at least today I have a hint.  At least I know the day is going to be colorful!  So here’s the plan:  I will be extra conscious today of the need for wholeness or completeness in situations I encounter or in the lives of people I meet.  Maybe the missing piece for someone will be attention or appreciation or encouragement or simple friendship.  Maybe this is the missing piece for the next person I meet. Or, in the meetings or conferences I might have today, the missing piece might be solidarity or unity or shared purpose or common vision.  I just need to be watching for people or places that might need my one little piece of the puzzle. Or, maybe this sidewalk gift is meant for me.  Maybe…maybe it’s a word about an empty spot in my own life.  Perhaps it was meant just for my own welfare and blessing.  We all have some empty spots, don’t we? What do you think?  What would you do with only one piece of the puzzle?