7 PLAYS

Have you ever had the wonderful surprise of finding something you weren’t looking for?

My latest was a folded piece of paper…tucked neatly in the bottom of a drawer.

On it was a list of 7 football plays…in ink…now faded black

7 plays I taught our grandchildren…when I was their quarterback.

Immediately I was transported to our back yard

but to different years…and different days

I could see us out there…playing football

practicing those 7 plays.

Two grandchildren made up each team

and since an even number we lacked…

being the oldest and the slowest

they made me all-time quarterback.

Which meant they looked to me to lead them down the field

to surprise, to astound…to amaze.

It was up to me to help them score…hence the need for these 7 plays.

As I stood gazing out the window

in awe of how clearly those old memories replay

I wondered if any of the grandchildren remembered any of these 7 plays.

I’m sure they remember our football games

and if they have forgotten the 7 plays that helped them score…

There’s a wonderful surprise waiting for them

one day

tucked neatly

In the bottom of a drawer.

BUTTERFLY DREAMS

It’s funny how our dreams change as we grow older…

For instance…as a little girl or guy we sometimes dream what it’d be like

to be a butterfly.

In our early stage of metamorphosis it’s hard for us to see

the who we will become…the kind of butterfly we’ll be.

But when we watch a caterpillar enter its chrysalis

and emerge a butterfly….

We begin to question the world around us

we ask Who, What, Where and Why…

And when we begin to realize this world around us

is not always as it seems…

we begin to wonder…and…we begin to dream.

What if we could change completely when the winter turned to spring?

What if we were colorful?

What if we had wings?

What if with a mere flap of our wings we could fly from flower to flower with ease?

What if when we spread them wide…we could float upon the breeze?

Dreams like these are fun when we are young

but along the way our life gets realigned

and as we navigate our different paths we leave our butterfly dreams behind.

Then something wonderful happens when we reach a certain age…

around the time our metamorphosis nears it’s final stage.

We begin to slow down a little. 

We find enjoyment in every moonlit night, 

in every new sunrise

and we remember a time when we were caterpillars

dreaming of butterflies.

MOE BEAUTIFUL EVERY DAY

She was crying as she ran into the house…crying as she slammed the door

“They called me ugly, Daddy !” She said…and then she cried some more.

He held her in his arms and as he felt his daughter cry

he thought…some people can be so mean…and he silently wondered why.

Quietly he held her close until her well of tears ran dry

When she looked up he could see a few surviving tears glistening in her eyes.

Then staring at her father she began to speak

“Am I ugly?” She asked as he wiped away the tears still lingering on her cheek.

Whoever said you were ugly…was only trying to me mean…

for I think you’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.

Think of all the beautiful people who went into making you…

I see your great grandma’s nose, your grandma’s smile 

and your mother’s eyes of blue.

But I also see past your beautiful nose, your smile and your eyes

I can see into your heart…where your true beauty lies.

Your beauty shows itself to me in oh so many ways

not only do I think your beautiful…but you get more beautiful every day.

Some day you’ll understand, he said, the cruel things people say and do

tell much more about who they are…and nothing about you. 

And as long as you know you’re beautiful…

and you believe that each and every day…

It won’t matter…not one bit…what other people say.

Her tears were now but a memory and a smile returned in her eyes of blue

she whispered, “Thank you, Daddy…I think you’re beautiful too.

THE PANDEMIC

Years from now when they speak of this disease 

people will say how they’re not sure where it began.

They’ll talk of how contagious it was…

and how it swept across the land.

They’ll call it a Pandemic…this particular disease

because it had no limitations…

no restrictions

it knew no boundaries

They’ll say how it didn’t matter 

ones religion, 

sexual preference 

color 

country of origin 

or name

This disease was unrelenting…

single-minded

it treated everyone the same

They’ll say how we passed it on to to one another 

at a truly frightening rate

They’ll remember how by the time people knew they had it…

it often was too late.

They’ll talk of searching for an answer…

while many people died

of how this disease isolated them from their families…

and how their families cried.

They’ll speak of this invisible enemy…

say how it was impossible to eradicate…

They’ll even give this disease a name…

they will call it hate.

Years from now when they speak of this disease…

or write about it in their literature

They’ll wonder why so many people died…

when they already had the cure.

THE TALLEST HOUSE IN ALL THE LAND

There was a time they were too young…too young to understand.

When their parents told them how they lived in the tallest house in all the land

Although they knew their parents to be loving, intelligent and wise

they also knew every house in their neighborhood was exactly the same size.

There came a time…one day when their children heard them say

How their house has grown a little taller than it was just yesterday.

But Mom! Dad! The parents heard their now a little older children say

this house IS exactly the same size that it was just yesterday.

Their parents looked at one another held their hands…and smiled

Then looked into the eyes of each and every child.

No! Today we climbed the tree in our backyard, we tasted sugar cane,

we watched a caterpillar turn into a butterfly…and we played out in the rain.

Every day we are together…our house continues to grow

and today it’s four stories taller now than it was a day ago.

This house has many stories…and each time we add one more

It grows a little taller…without adding another floor.

Every item in this house adds a story…some are simple…some are grand

but they all go in to making this the tallest house in all the land.

When their children grew up and had families of their own

their children also came to understand…

How their families were blessed to be living

In the tallest houses in the land.

WE WILL REMEMBER

The world is filled with famous people, they are everywhere we look:

in our movies, on TV, in our newspapers and books

And though we’ve probably never met them, when adieu this world they bid

we’ll remember words they said and we’ll remember things they did.

We’ll remember if they were filled with love…or if hate made their vision blind

We’ll remember if they were compassionate, honest, generous and kind.

We'll remember if they made us smile or if as a rule

they were mean, indifferent, unfair, prejudiced or cruel.

Most of us, however, aren’t famous to the world…

but we are famous to a few…

and so we need to ask:

How do I want to be remembered by the people I’m famous to?

What will they treasure most when I am gone…

when I no longer cease to be?

Will they wear a smile or a frown

when the remember me?

FAVOIRTES

I’ve been blessed to have spent my life with someone who has a host of favorites from which to choose…

Favorite colors, favorite foods, favorite houses...favorite shoes.

Favorite authors, favorite actors, favorite places…favorite things to cook

Favorite music, favorite movies, favorite animals...favorite books.

I used to tease her about having so many favorites…all in affectionate fun

Telling her she had too many favorites and she needed to narrow them to one.

But the more I’ve watched her over the years finding so many favorites as our life has moved along

I’ve come to believe that she is right and I’m the one who’s wrong.

I have come to believe it is she…not me…who is sensible and wise

as she observes the world around us through beautifully innocent eyes.

Reminding me as we travel the road of life, as we somehow muddle through it

It’s not only important what we see, but how we choose to view it.

How wonderful it is for her...how extraordinarily rare

to go through life, to look around….and find favorites everywhere.

Imagine the anticipation...the excitement you’d feel every day

If you know in the morning when you wake up…this could be your favorite day.

Imagine if you were open to it...if you were so inclined

all the miracles you’d discover...all the favorites you might find.

If you can find favorites in the moment...in what that moment has comprised

you will be continually amazed at life and constantly surprised.

You’d fall asleep at night contented, happy, thankful, satisfied,….and then

you’d wake up in the morning and start all over again.

So the next time she picks a favorite...I have no reason to tease or doubt her

because having so many favorite things…

is one of my favorite things about her.

WHEN A HEART IS LOVED

I asked an artist about love…she smiled then answered most colorfully:

When my heart is loved…and loves another…I find perfect symmetry.

I asked a musician the same question…he sang his answer out to me:

When my heart is loved…and loves another…I find perfect harmony.

A writer said, as she was about to pen some prose…or was it poetry?

When my heart is loved…and loves another…the words flow naturally.

A philosopher told me when I asked if he knew where love could be found.

When my heart is loved…and loves another…I see it all around.

And they were right, for those times in my life I thought I was on my own

when my heart was loved…and loved another…I never felt alone.

And when I thought I didn’t have enough and wished I could have more

I realized:

When my heart is loved…and loves another…I never will be poor.

Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here…one we all should heed:

When our heart is loved and loves another…we have everything we need.

It’s in our paintings…in our music…in our prose…and in our poetry…

handed down by artists, musicians, writers, philosophers…

and today…with a little push from me.

EARTH DAY

EARTH DAY 2020

As we use and abuse the resources of our planet

without remorse…without renewing

today is perhaps the best day to ask:

What on Earth are we all doing?

EARTH DAY 2050

When there is nothing left to take

and our population has dwindled down to one

with tears streaming will the last survivor ask:

What on Earth have we all done?

EARTH DAY 2075

And when we’re finally visited by other life forms

will they have tears in their eyes too

when they look around at what we’ve left and ask:

What on Earth did these people do?

THANKING A HERO

I was raised on stories of heroes…in Fairy Tales, in books, at the movies and on TV

Heroes slayed the dragons, fought the enemies and helped to keep us safe, happy and free.

Heroes had a special power…drawn from visceral source 

They often came dressed in a suit of armor…on the back of a big white horse.

Heroes were tall, dark, handsome and beautiful…not one under six feet three

The heroes from my Fairy Tales didn’t look at all like me!

But when I left the Fairy Tales behind…I realized not all heroes had to wear capes…

That, in fact, I’m surrounded by heroes…and they come in all sizes and shapes.

Yesterday I had a chance to thank a hero…applauding her as she headed for home

and today I get to thank her a second time…In the lines of this little poem.

Let me thank you, and all the other heroes who are slaying this dragon, this invisible enemy

Thank you for all that you do every day…to help keep the rest of us safe, happy and free.

This particular nurse I thanked was not very tall…I’m sure she was under six three

She wore a blue uniform and her face was behind a mask…but she certainly looked beautiful to me.

I applauded her special power…drawn from her visceral source…

and had to smile as she waved driving off toward the sunset

behind the wheel of her Ford Bronco…of course.

FINAL WORDS

I was in the room when Grandpa died although I couldn’t hear

his final words to Grandma…when he whispered in her ear.

I was too far away and her voice too soft and low

for me to hear what she whispered back…before she let him go.

But once the flood of sadness receded into a slow and steady stream

I asked her what they whispered that day…and immediately she beamed.

“Have I ever told you how I met your Grandpa? She asked.

She smiled, “Then let me now explain….

I was walking home from school one day and it began to rain."

Your Grandpa, grabbed my hand and said, ‘Come with me’.

And we waited out the rain under the shelter of a tree.

The first date we ever had was out to eat and a walk along the beach when

in the middle of our walk it began to rain…again.

There was something about the rain for us…something magical and pure

We couldn’t resist it’s beauty, it’s enchantment…it’s allure. 

He asked me to marry him out in a downpour…

at first I thought he was insane..

‘I was waiting for the right moment,’ he said,

‘I was waiting for the rain'.

And then my grandma smiled and I could feel the love her smile contained…

The last words your grandpa whispered…he said…’I will miss the rain’.

And as he took his final breath and I knew his life was through…

I squeezed his hand and whispered back…I will miss it too.”

Now every time we visit Grandma…my family thinks I’m insane

when I look up at the sky and say…

“I hope we get some rain”.

GESUNDHEIT

I learned acceptance early in life as my household was a little odd

My father was German Jewish…my mother Irish Catholic…

which meant they prayed to different gods.

I was exposed to both religions and the more and more I grew

when I was asked…I never knew…if I was a Catholic…or a Jew?

Whenever someone sneezed next to me…I didn’t know what to do!

Should I say Gesundheit…or Shalom…or go with God bless you?

But being raised with this disparity was one of the beauties of my growth

for having two religions meant that I accepted both.

And when I went out into the world it made it easier to be

more accepting of all the other people who did not think like me.

I made friends with people whose Gods had different names, 

different clothing, different hues…

whose Gods did not resemble at all the two Gods that I knew.

But having grown up with two Gods I found it easy to get along

for whose to say my Gods are right and all their Gods are wrong.

And though it’s made acceptance easier 

as I’m able to see how each God pleases…

It has left me now more confused than ever…

when anybody sneezes.  

THE VOICES OF OUR HEROES

Heroes have always been among us…

quietly doing what they’ve always done before

Yes, heroes have always been among us

but in a crisis…we acknowledge them more.

Heroes are those people who put their lives on the line

they give

and they give

and they give

Yes, heroes are those people who put their lives on the line

so the rest of us may live.

Heroes have but one agenda

every hero—girl, boy, woman and man

Yes, heroes have but one agenda…

to save as many lives as they can.

The heroes have been trying to tell us

what they need from us…day to day

Yes, heroes have been trying to tell us

perhaps it’s time to listen to what the heroes have to say.

We need to listen to the voices of our heroes

as they raise them up resolute…and strong

Yes, we need to listen to the voices of our heroes

for our heroes will never steer us wrong.

HOPE

When the world is fraught with fear and danger…and I find it hard to cope…

I allow that same world to remind me…there is always hope.

I see hope as each new sunrise brightens up the morn

I see hope on parents’ faces when a baby has been born. 

I see hope in every gardener’s eyes…as they sow their field of seeds

I see hope in every flower blooming…every tree and every weed.

I hear hope every time someone pops a cork in a bottle of champagne

and every time I overhear birds singing in the rain.

I see hope in every rainbow, in every birthday candle's light

I see hope in every flower that is blooming in the night. 

I find hope riding on the wind or drifting on the breeze

I see it in a baby’s smile or in the dancing of the bees.

I see it crawling in the caterpillar who hopes to be a butterfly

I see it in our faces every time we say goodbye.

I see hope in baby animals…in boats heading out to sea

I see hope in art and music and, yes, in poetry.

I see hope at every wedding…every nervous groom and blushing bride

and with every act of love and kindness…my hope is fortified. 

So when I look out on a world where fear and danger seem to surround me

I will never surrender 

So when I look out on a world where danger and fear seems, sometimes, to surround me

I will never surrender to them…not with so much hope around me

TOUCH THE FORGOTTEN SENSE

We have five basic senses…which we use daily without thinking about them much

There’s seeing and hearing and tasting and don’t forget…smelling and touch.

Our senses are interconnected…into our life they’re totally infused…

but occasionally we’re asked..hypothetically

If we had to lose one…which one would we choose?

Of course we’d want to keep our sight!

Certainly sight in our top three

There is so much beauty surrounding us…so much beauty we want to see.

Of course we’d want to keep our hearing!

There are a host of sounds in the world that enthrall…

We’d have to keep our sense of hearing so we can listen to them all.

Of course we’d want to keep our sense of taste!

to quench our appetite and satisfy our thirst.

And what good would our sense of taste be

If we couldn’t smell what we’re eating or drinking first?

Which leaves the sense of touch…as down our list of senses we scroll

by the sheer process of elimination…touch is low man on that totem pole.

But this quarantine…this virus has shown us…as it’s filled us with anxiety and fear

That to touch is just as important …as to see, smell, taste and to hear.

Keeping or social distance has made us realize…this fifth sense…matters much!

That even with our other four senses working…we find we still miss that human touch.

We understand how holding hands, walking arm in arm, 

a kiss, a hug…a simple pat on one’s back or one’s knee

is just as important in our lives as the ability to hear, smell, taste, and to see.

So the next time I’m asked…hypothetically 

If I had to lose one sense…which one would I choose…

I’ll say: I’ve been blessed to have all five in my life

and there isn’t one that I’d choose to lose.

THE BIRDS, THE FLOWERS AND THE TREES

Sometimes I wonder if I project my own feelings too much

onto the wind, the clouds, and the bees…

If I have a special relationship with the birds, the flowers and the trees?

When a bird is sining her morning song and I hear that melody

could it be that she’s just singing…or is she singing just to me?

When I walk by a flower in full bloom…though she’s meant for the whole world to see

in that moment I walk by her…does she stand a little taller…just for me?

As I work my way from branch to branch…climbing to the top of a tree

does she make it this easy for everyone to climb…

or does she make a little easier just for me.

Sometimes I wonder when it comes to birds, the flowers and the trees

If as humans we are more alike than we are apart…

I wonder if every flower has a brain

every bird a soul

and if every tree has a heart.

We are brought up to believe this is foolishness

It’s an impossibility…we have been taught…

but projection or not when I am with them 

it’s hard to believe…they do not.

GOOD MORNING, GOOD NITHG AND THANK YOU

He followed the same routine…the same ritual every night

A goodnight kiss 

an ‘I love you’ 

then a thank you before turning off the light.

In the morning…the same routine he followed in the night

a good morning kiss, 

an I love you 

then a thank you after turning on the light.

One day she asked him, “The way you say good night and good morning is something I adore

I understand the kiss 

and the I love you…

but what are you thanking me for?”

His cheeks began to redden and a smile crossed his face

then he took her hand in his with a kind of elegance and grace.

In the evening I am thankful for another day to look back on with you

and in the morning I am thankful for another day to look forward to.

Now it was her turn to smile as she became aware

from that moment on in their marriage it’s a routine they would share.