Winter Offering

When I wake each morning
I stretch.
The sheets filled with heat
Grab at my legs.
They don’t want to let me go.
I fling off the quilt.
Diving out
I take a deep breath,
let it out,
Plunge into the cold room,
Open the blinds,
Pale winter light plays around my head.
I look down at the grass
White with frost.
I raise my eyes
Looking for a sunbeam.
No such luck.
Thoughts of summer arise unbidden;
One lone violet blooms in the snow.

Winter morning

In winter one awakes before the pale light of dawn;
Everywhere it is silent;
Last night the wind was moaning;
I wonder how many tree limbs have fallen.

Ledges

I make my home where lots of deer roam.
When happy I go alone to their woods near by.
Only I understand this joy.
I walk to Ledges, and sit on a moss covered rock.
The shadows of bare tree limbs wave at me.
If I happen to see a biker cruising by,
I say hello and smile;
I laugh as my eyelash catches a snowflake.
It melts and a tear runs down my face.

December songs

Sunrise, sunset
Luminous sky, crystal air bright and bracing
It is easy to write of beautiful days in April
and starry nights in August.
They are the stuff of poetry.

What of these gray December days?
Full of fog and damp
and soggy earth.
The air grabs my skin with clammy fingers
Nature slows to a crawl
Our backyard pond trembles in the cold
Not frozen, but
circled in a band of white ice, which grows and recedes
as if Mother Nature cannot make up her mind
Is it winter or not?

Canada geese are here
They are much attached to our pond
They call out to each other as they gather
Where do the geese go each evening when the cold night clouds advance upon them?
The day dies and they leave
Yet they keep flying back each morning
from who knows where?
splashing down in a song of water
They move from pond to land, to pond again
Ignoring the ducks that swim against the far shore
They graze in the grass and nap in the pale afternoon light
They have cast their lot here with us, it seems
Watching warily when we enter their backyard domain
But never leaving until dusk reminds them to find shelter for the night
There is no urgency to leave for good for some far off place
As winter's sharp retort has gone missing so far

When the December freeze finally comes
The geese go away for good
The pond, now solid,
Sits in white stillness
At rest
While the blustery wind
Sings of big gray clouds and the promise of snow.

two poems in response to my visit to L'Arche with my JustFaith Group

Paradigm Shift

What greeted me, smack dab in the face,

Was the noise:

Radio blaring in the living room,

Yelling in the dining room

by one who would later be introduced as Mama.

How can one think here?

L'Arche is not about thinking,

It is about being... loud, messy, demanding...and helpless.

It is also about

Loving

and respecting

and living together

as family.

The quiet contemplation that usually goes with

centering on God

is turned on its head.

It is the noise that says

something holy is going on here,

God seeking is alive and well here.

Noise: who would think it?

It is fierce

and pierces my heart like a silent prayer.

Holy Intrusion

We live our lives of

thoughts and concepts,

busyness and ambition,

In and beside a world of

the mentally challenged,

who are devoid of our preoccupations

and goals,

Though their world parallels our world and overlaps.

We called them "handicapped,"

only reluctantly admitting our own handicaps,

our inability to let go and realize a simple pleasure

and live in the moment.

Whenever we are able to drop our long term view,

when we are able to appreciate the moment,

to drift in response to a simple delight,

then something that ties us to an always distant future breaks free,

and we discover, even as we get caught up in future think again,

that we have changed, been changed

by the holy intrusion

of just being.

Sunny Saturday

I got up early this morning to make a salad for a Christmas gathering I am attending later in the day. I call it Jody's salad, in honor of my ex-sister-in-law, who gave me the recipe. The Christmas party is a "border crossing" experience in the lingo of JustFaith, the faith and justice group I am sort of leading. The four women who are participants in JustFaith with me, include two religious from the Sisters of Notre Dame, an ex-religious, who is now an Associate of the order, and 1 other Associate - besides me, also an Associate. We are an eclectic little group, in spite of the fact that we are all of similar religious persuasion. We have very different life experiences, which we shared when we went on retreat together in September. I am ostensibly the leader of the group, because I attend to the logistics of getting us together, and mind the syllabus that comes from the JustFaith office. But in actuality, we sit and talk every few weeks about matters of faith and justice, and I am a participant like everyone else. I look forward to our gatherings, though the drive up to Chardon is quite a haul, especially from Kent, when I leave from work.

Today we are meeting with a group called L'Arche, which is a group home for the mentally challenged. We are going to spend a couple of hours helping them decorate their home for Christmas and then have a meal with them. I'm not sure how I will react to this immersion experience. The idea is to walk in someone else's shoes for a bit. Will this "taste" of someone else's life really change me? That is the idea.... But we'll have to see how I feel about it after it is over. I only know that driving to a new place by myself is a bit stressful, and I have been thinking about the drive rather than the experience most of the morning.

I have a huge grocery list sitting on the frig right now, and after visiting L'Arche, I intend to go grocery shopping. Going to the store on a Saturday night should be pleasant, as I expect the store will be quite empty of patrons. That's the way I like it.

I was thinking I should find a Christmas icon to put on this page - because I like icons, and also because I want to test the picture capture of this blog application.



Byzantine icon adopted into Catholicism as Our Lady of Perpetual Help
This is the image of Mary in the chapel down at Walsh U. I have a glass disk with this image enclosed, upstairs in the reading nook.

Well, it looks like this blog application posts pictures very well.

Cold Morning

I woke early this morning, about 5:30 a.m. and just lay abed, cozy and warm. Finally aroused myself about 7:30. I could feel the cold seeping in through the walls - The house is warm, but it is the color of the air that I see through the window that gives me a hint about the cold. It is the color of Swedish crystal, sort of shimmery, reflecting the snow, which is in soft piles around the edge of our pond. Should I write another poem about a snowy, cold morning? I have written many. Is there a new way of describing it? I'll have to think about that on my drive to work today. I need some new inspiration!

Midnight in December - 22 degrees F

Well, I didn't get very far with my blog. Actually, I forgot I even had it! But then I found a website that links to dozens and dozens of poetry blogs on the net, and then I remembered that I had a blog. Maybe I'll post some of my poetry on my blog. I am a bit shy about what I write, and don't share it much - even with my family. Maybe the anonymity of the Internet will give me courage. Let's see:

One haiku before I go to bed...


Cold night

Down blanket

Steam grate for the homeless