GOODNIGHT LOVE

 

Goodnight Love are the first words he remembers..the first words he holds dear…Goodnight Love always made him smile when his mom whispered them in his ear.

And when he got too old for her to tuck him in…instead…Goodnight Love she’d always say as he headed off to bed.

When he was in college…she’d send him letters which he’d read in bed at night…and at the end of every letter…Goodnight Love she’d write.

Every now and then after he married he’d call her up to ask about her day…they’d talk for a little while then…Goodnight Love she’d say.

When it came time for her to pass…as he knelt down beside her bed…

Goodnight Love, as she had his hand, were the last words that she said.

It’s been speculated that after someone passes…once their spirit soars up to the sky…as long as we remember them…they never truly die.

For what they meant to us when they were here…while still a shining star…finds its way into our heart and becomes part of who we are.

Goodnight Love are the first words his daughter remembers…the first words she holds dear…Goodnight Love always makes her smile when he whispers them in her ear.

THE GRANDCHILDREN'S TABLE

There was a time when I had more hair and I was, I imagine, a little thinner…when our family gathered around one table to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner.

But as our family grew and our table didn’t…as a family we were no longer able…to sit together in one spot…so we added…the grandchildren’s table.

To make life easy and to make sure the rest of our family fit…with the grandchildren at the grandchildren’s table is where I chose to sit.

As far as I was concerned I had won the Thanksgiving prize…I could listen to the adult conversation while seeing the world through my grandchildren’s eyes.

It’s funny how all the grandchildren aspired to be at the table where all the adults were meeting…while I was happy on a stool at the grandchildren’s table…watching…listening…and eating.

For years this was our seating arrangement on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day…until all that changed when our eldest son, Bryan, decided to move away.

So Damien moved up to the adult table just a few steps across the floor…meaning the grandchildren’s table which once had five…was now reduced to four.

Bonnie was the next to move…Taylor moved into her seat with glee…which meant sitting at the grandchildren’s table left only Aden and Ava…and me.

This year eight people made it to our Thanksgiving dinner and so, it was conceded…our dining room table was big enough and the grandchildren’s table was not needed

I understand the mathematics…how around one table we all can fit…but that didn’t stop me from looking over and remembering the place…where I use to sit.

Looking back to a time when getting our entire family together was easy…

back to a little table where so many wonderful memories lie…

back, when I sat with my grandchildren and saw the world through younger…more innocent eyes.

Which makes me hope and pray for the day…when our entire family is here again and once again we find it fitting…to bring out the grandchildren’s table…

I know where I’ll be sitting.

LOOKTO THE SKY

 

When searching for a philosophy on how to live…how to act and why…my search ends quite abruptly…when I look up at the sky.

The sky understands how life is always moving…how it constantly rearranges…how we must enjoy each moment…before that moment changes.

The sky is open to everyone…she has no boundaries no borderlines at all.

She accepts all entities that float in…she has no need for walls.

The sky embraces her myriad of colors…every color is a friend…

she knows her beauty is created by the way her different colors blend.

The sky rejoices at the differences in her clouds…she would never think to cause one shame…for no matter their size or shape or where they come from…she treats every cloud the same.

The sky understands there will be pain and suffering and heartache…

that lightning, tornadoes and hurricanes will amass…

but she also knows the fiercest storms will eventually come to pass.

The sky knows even in the darkest times…in the ebony of night

The moon, the planets and the stars still offer up their light.

Which is why when searching for a philosophy on how to live…

how to act and why…

I could look to the philosophers…

to books…

to religions…

but I prefer…to look up to the sky.

NEEDLES IN THE STAND

 ]Sometimes it’s the first one we pick up…sometimes it’s the fourth or fifth…but when we find it…we mutually agree…for we always know when we have found our perfect Christmas tree.

And though we know it is a symbol of what this season is meant to be…for us it is also a once a year representation of what has become…our family tree.

In the bottom of our tree stand…over the years we have amassed…needles from old Christmas trees that will link this one with the past.

As we string the lights and hang the ornaments we dance this beautiful ballet…and when our dance is over…we see our family on display.

The story of our life…a wonderful life the two of us agree…told in all the ornaments hanging on our tree.

We love to re-read the stories of the family we hold dear…as we add yet another chapter to our Christmas tree each year.

And when this Christmas season is over and the new year’s about to dawn…we’ll smile as we pack away our ornaments…knowing our family story will go on.

We will toast this years tree as we always do…with a celebratory quaff…knowing next year’s tree will pick up…where this year’s tree left off.

And we’ll wonder what new stories we will add to next year’s tree by hand…

Perhaps that’s why we always leave some needles in the bottom of our stand.

ANOTHER REASON TO CELEBRATE

 

This is not an anniversary poem…no…for that would be much too soon…the anniversary of our wedding…we won’t celebrate til June.

But it does have wedding connotations…a kind of anniversary thread…because yesterday we took a walk in the park near the chapel where we were wed.

We stopped in front of the chapel…after our walk was through…to remember and relive that moment 33 1/2 years ago…when we said ‘I do’.

We stood on the doorstep remembering our first steps taken together as husband and wife…and thinking how every day…through all these years…we’ve been blessed with a wonderful life.

As we gazed upon our chapel…we noticed in these 33 1/2 years she’s a little more weathered than she use to be…and it brought a smile to our faces when we realized…so are we.

And those smiles were soon accompanied by a scattering of tears…when we realized how…just like this chapel…we’re still together…still standing after all these years.

So…perhaps this is an anniversary poem after all…

though not on our exact wedding date…

Perhaps every day we are alive…

every day we are together…

is another anniversary…

another reason to celebrate.

SHAKESPEARE AND THANKSGIVING

 

I love family traditions…but with a blended family and only so much time in any holiday…we decided…when we blended…to celebrate our holidays in untraditional ways.

I believe if William Shakespeare was alive today he’d find a way to spin it…he’d say, ‘these traditions of yours be madness…yet there is a method in it.’

Take Thanksgiving for instance…it’s a holiday as a family we love to celebrate…but we don’t often come together on the exact Thanksgiving date.

Though many families will be celebrating Thanksgiving today…our celebration won’t commence until we get together Sunday…if you’re keeping track…that’s three days hence.

Shakespeare…never a playwright to shy away from twist or change…might agree by saying, ‘This is certainly different…but it is also wondrous strange.’

Come this Sunday, when our family gets together…when we open up our doors…there will be lots of sides for the vegetarians…and meat for the carnivores.

And even though we will be celebrating our Thanksgiving…not today…but three days after…our house will be filled with hugs and kisses…with stories…with smiles and laughter.

And we’ll take some time to think about our ancestors…and living relatives who for their own reasons are unable…to make it home this Thanksgiving and sit around our table.

For here’s a simple fact every parent of ever family has found…as our children and grandchildren grow up…it gets more difficult to gather them around.

So this Sunday will be giving thanks with whatever family is in the room…and with all those who can’t make it home…we’ll call…perhaps we’ll Zoom.

We’ll be giving thanks we have a family for everyone to come home to…and we’ll be giving thanks for traditions…the old ones…and the new

I imagine if Shakespeare was alive today…he’d go on Facebook, Instagram…or perhaps he’d even Tweet:

‘That which we call Thanksgiving…on any other day…would taste as sweet.’

STEPS

 

The ancient philosopher Heraclitus astutely said…on the banks of a river in Babylon…”You cannot step into the same river twice…for the waters are continually flowing on.”

I think that also works for any step we take in life…with each step perhaps we get a little bolder…at the very least with every step…we’ve grown another step older.

Perhaps that’s why we love our morning walks…to see nature’s changing beauty on display…to try and find the subtle changes today…from yesterday.

Changes in the sky, in the trees, in us as we walk along the street 

in the clouds, in the ocean, in the animals, in the people whom we meet.

Every day we start out feeling like children on Christmas…anticipating a surprise…and every day we find them…with our one-day older eyes.

We don’t have a choice the way life moves…the way things change subtly from day to day…and as we take our walk each morning…we wouldn’t have it any other way.

LITE BRITE AND CONNECTING THE DOTS

When I gaze up at the evening sky (by the way I think everybody should)

I’m often reminded of my younger days…back in my childhood.

Back when I played with my Lite Brite…for often I would sigh…when I saw the constellations I created…back when I controlled the sky.

And I wonder if ancient astrologers gazing up into the night…were as enamored with what they saw…as I was with my Lite Brite.

Back when I played connect the dots…when it wasn’t always clear…when I started to connect them…what picture would appear.

And I wonder how long it took ancient astrologers to make the correlation…to connect the dots of light across the sky and form the constellations.

I don’t think it crazy or in the least bizarre…to think there was a little bit of child in those ancient astrologers as they gazed up at the stars

Perhaps they formed their beliefs…and found answers to the question why…by playing, in their own way, with their Lite Brite in the sky.

Gazing at the constellations tonight…I’m filled with a host of childhood thoughts…which makes me want to thank those ancient astrologers…for connecting all those dots.

 

HAMMER TIME

 

One of the things I love about memories…besides the wonderful feelings they can bring…is their ability to attach themselves to a myriad of things.

Yesterday I heard MC Hammer’s ‘You Can’t Touch This’ on the radio…which my mind was quick to salute…while promptly moving past MC Hammer and his pants made of parachute.

There’s something about that song…when you hear it…even if by chance…that makes you at least want to move your feet…and at most…get up and dance.

When my memory heard that song…in an instant it transported me…back to a time when our two oldest grandchildren were staying with us in NC.

The four of us were sitting on the deck of our cabin when that song came on the air…and immediately we started dancing…how we looked…we didn’t care.

For what could be better than dancing to ‘You Can’t Touch This’ by MC…

with our grandchildren on the deck of our cabin in NC?.

Then Damien and Taylor got it in their heads…I suppose that’s the power of what music can do…to see if they could dance around the cabin before the song was through.

They looked to us for approval…wondering if we would worry…when Deborah turned up the volume on the radio and said…”If you’re going to make it…you better hurry.”

And here is what’s etched into my memory…of that truly memorable day…the butts of our two oldest grandchildren as they happily danced away.

And of Deborah and I watching them…running…dancing…laughing as children are apt to do…with smiles on our faces a they made it back before the song was through.

So as two super dope grandparents from Florida…

yes, we are often known as such…

we’d like to thank MC Hammer and his music 

for giving us a memory in NC we will never forget…

a memory…it’s safe to say…you can’t touch.

BEFORE HE CLOSED HIS EYES

 

One friend stood at another friend’s funeral and began this eulogy:

“Our friend had a simple philosophy about life.” He said. “Which he laid out for all of us to see.”

“How often did he tell us he lived his life in moments…from the moment he saw the sun’s first light…and how he would think about those moments when he want to bed at night.”

“And if he recalled more beautiful moments than bad…he would smile and he’d say…just before he closed his eyes…What a wonderful way to spend the day.”

“And if…when Saturday ended…he recalled more beautiful days than bad…this line he would speak…just before he closed his eyes…what a wonderful way to spend a week.”

“And as wonderful weeks turned into wonderful months at the end of December…from his lips you might hear…before he closed his eyes at night…what a wonderful way to spend a year.”

“If he was here to give his own eulogy…the fact he’s not still cuts me like a knife…I’m sure he’d look out at all of you…the ones who made his moments beautiful…and say…before closing his eyes for the last time…what a wonderful way to have spent my life.”

“Goodbye old friend. We will miss you…

you left us with so many beautiful moments 

before you closed your eyes….

So many beautiful memories…

What a wonderful way to say goodbye.”

ANOTHER WALK IN NATURE

 

The more we walk in unspoiled nature…the more we hear her sounds and see her sights…the more and more we realize the Native American’s had it right…

On our walk the other day…once again we were in awe…

let me share with you to some of the sights and sounds…some of the wonders that we heard and saw.

We heard many different birds singing…with various musical abilities

We heard the sound of water meeting the land and the wind whispering to the trees.

We saw the delicate intricacies of the spiders and the webs they all had spun.

We saw the beauty of the lake as its water glimmered in the sun.

We saw the bright yellows of the smooth beggarticks that all around us grew…the purples of the climbing asters and mist flowers painted blue

We saw the vibrant colors of the butterflies…Yellow, pink and white…

and herons everywhere we looked…in colors blue and white.

We saw alligators lurking in the marsh…moss filled trees alive and dead…we saw moorhens swimming with the alligators with eagles flying overhead.

So you can see how, with every walk we take in nature…the more we hear her sounds and see her sights…the more and more convinced we are…the Native American’s had it right…

It’s also way we try to walk in the footprints of their ancestors as often as we can…

so we can feel the same wonders they felt

walking in spaces 

that have not been rearranged by man.

AS FATE WOULD HAVE IT

 

You never know when the day begins or until it is complete what twists and turns that day may take…or what people you might meet.

Today a nod to fate…or luck…or what many call destiny…this story revolves around two mechanics, some donuts…a soldier…and one dead car battery. 

After a wonderful time the day before…hiking, seeing animals…identifying trees and flowers…we decided to rise early and grab some donuts before visiting Bok Tower.

But when we tried to start our car…the battery was dead…already things were not going our way…it seemed that fate had other plans for the beginning of our day.

After getting a jump from our roadside service…(whom we immediately had called)…we drove to O’Reilly Auto Parts to have a new battery installed.

But this O’Reilly’s didn’t have our battery in stock…(that’s 2 twists of fate if you happen to be keeping score)…But Chris, the manager, found one at Eric’s O’Reilly’s and sent us to his store.

After paying for our new battery…(yes, it was a tidy sum)…and thanking Eric for installing it…we said in unison…”Bok Tower…here we come!”

Our car was running…we were happy…we were only 2 1/2 hours late…and then we remembered our donuts and thought…Bok Tower would have to wait.

As luck would have it…standing in front of us at The Donut Man shop…(which only added to fate’s intrigue)…was a soldier…how did we know he was a soldier?…he was wearing his fatigues.

We thought…we only had a little car trouble that delayed us getting on our way…and how that pales in comparison with what a soldier faces every day

So we told him to put away his money…that we would buy his donuts and whatever else he wanted too…as a way to thank him for his service…it was the least that we could do.

Tom, the soldier, realizing his day was also not going exactly as he planned…smiled, thanked both Deborah and me then before leaving…shook our hands.

Fate finally brought us to Bok Tower…and we’ll not soon forget the wonder fo such a beautiful place…nor the kindness of strangers we met along the way…or the smile on one soldier’s face.

I apologize for the length of this story…let’s just chalk it up to fate…but it is my hope…just like our donuts…oh…and Bok Tower…you found it worth the wait.

THE MAGIC

I love watching a magic show…I love to be surprised…I love how the magic happens…right before my eyes.

The secrets inherent in the magic…I don’t care to know…I prefer to be amazed…to sit back and enjoy the show.

When I looked at a recent photo of Deborah, me and our grandchildren…I thought…when did they grow up…when did they get so tall…I remember a time, not so long ago, when we could pick them up…when all of them were small.

A time when we’d read them Fairy Tales…I can still hear their voices…their joy…their laughter…a time when we’d watch them sleep and hope their dreams were filled with happily ever after.

But now, as I gaze upon this photograph, I can’t help but be surprised…it seems, like magic, our four grandchildren…have grown up before our eyes.

And I wonder if they still believe in bears that talk…and trees that dance…and wizards who can fly…how a kiss can turn a frog into a prince… and that there are castles in the sky.

How life can be a Fairy Tale…and how happy endings do come true…as I hold this photo in my hand…I sure hope they do.

And I hope when they look at this photograph…and realize how…right before their eyes…they all grew…they are as amazed as we are…and that they believe in magic too.

And for Deborah and me…the best part of this magic show was not only being there to watch them grow…it was how every now and then…(the proof is in this photo)…we got to be part of the show.

 

A HEART THAT'S SHARED

 

I am not a doctor! Let me make that clear right from the start…but you don’t have to be a doctor to understand the importance of the heart.

I know, as far as vital organs go, the heart is beyond compare…which makes me think that something this crucial to our existence…was created to be shared.

To me the miracle of our heart…what truly makes it great…is its ability…no matter how many times we give it away…to revitalize…to rejuvenate.

Again I am no doctor and I have no proof of what I’m about to declare…but, from my experience, one’s heart grows bigger and stronger the more that heart is shared.

And even bigger, stronger and more powerful…(this is another lesson I have learned) when a heart that has been given away…gets one back in return.

In giving our heart away to others…there is a shared awareness…understood…and oftentimes unspoken…that shared hearts will gather round…whenever one of them is broken.

So, a bit of advice on the heart…from a non-doctor…if I may…

If you want to keep your heart beating strong 

if you want to keep it healthy…

try giving it away.

WHISPERING TO BUTTERFLIES

 

“Grandma! You have so many beautiful flowers in your yard.” Her granddaughter gasped. “Do you mind if I ask you why?”

“Because I’m always making wishes” Grandma said, “so I need a lot of butterflies.”

Grandma took her granddaughter’s hand and together they sat amongst the flowers…She said, “you can’t tell by looking at them…but butterflies have great power.”

“The indigenous people who first lived on this land believed in the Great Spirit, they believed in wishing…and in butterflies too and they believed there is a simple way to make a wish come true.

“You whisper your wish to a butterfly…for butterflies are sworn to secrecy and know exactly what to do…they will deliver your wish to whatever Great Spirit you happen to be wishing to.”

The granddaughter looked into her Grandma’s eyes and asked, “Grandma, do all your wishes come true?”

“Not all of them,” her Grandma said hugging her granddaughter close…”but, if you’re lucky, some important ones do.

“That’s why I have so many flowers.” She smiled. “It comes down to this simple fact…since I will never run out of wishes…I need all the butterflies I can attract.”

“Can anyone make a wish on a butterfly?” Her granddaughter asked. “Anyone.” Her Grandma said…”Anyone who sees a butterfly…and has a wish within their head.”

Now, every time her granddaughter visits…after saying hi to Grandma…it’s no longer a surprise…to see her run right out to the garden and whisper to the butterflies.

HUMANITY

 Standing behind the counter in our bookstore and peering through its window that looks out on the street give me a unique perspective on humanity…both from the people whom I talk with…and those I never meet:

I watched a car pull into the parking space directly in front of our store…then watched a middle-aged woman jump out the driver’s side, run around and open the passenger side door.

I watched her struggling to help a much older woman get up and out of her seat…and with the older lady leaning heavily on the younger one…I watched them slowly cross the street.

After lunch I saw them slowly shuffle back…I watched the daughter secure her mother in her seat…smile…gently shut the door…then run around to her side, enter, and make sure her mom was safe and comfortable once more.

As I watched this all unfold in front of me I thought of the life, together, they’ve traversed and my mind wandered back to a time when their roles had been reversed.

When the older woman, then a young mother, carried her daughter across the street…then opened her car door and made sure she was safe and comfortable within her seat.

And as I watched them drive away I thought about humanity…and how it’s one of our designers greatest creations…for what is humanity if not love…that’s been passed down…from generation to generation.

WHERE THE FAMILY MEETS THE MOON

 

Sitting around a campfire recently I quickly became attuned…to the beauty of the nature surrounding me…to the trees…the stars…the moon.

The fire was truly fascinating…as I felt its warmth and watched its flames I realized with every one I’ve ever sat beside how no two fires are the same.

As I watched the flames of this fire grow higher, reaching to the sky…every now and then a flame would break away and, on its own, would fly…

I’d watch it slowly float up…up…up into the night…until it flew so high it faded from my sight.

And, as my eyes turned upward, my attention was quickly seized by the moon as she floated in the sky…smiling through the trees.

It was one of those moment is life…watching the fire…listening to the voices of family and friends…that I wished would last forever…

that I hoped would never end.

And when the flames had breathed their last…I smiled hoping the next campfire would come soon…giving me another chance to sit with family and friends…where the fire meets the moon.

WORLD KINDNESS DAY

 

Today is World Kindness day…a day that’s been assigned…to remind us of the beauty and the power there is in being kind.

To serve as an inspiration for all the people of the world to find…not just today…but every day…a reason to be kind.

With that in mind…inside this poem…some thought on kindness I’ll insert…at most they may help change the world…at least…they couldn’t hurt.

I wonder why it is that, when we looked at all the people of the world combined…and decided on one word to define us…we chose humankind.

It is said an act of kindness…big or small…is never wasted…but when you stop to think about it all…you have to wonder if any act of kindness can ever be considered small.

What kind of world would we be living in if the kindness we show to our loved ones would overflow…onto every person of the Earth…even those we do not know.

And I wonder if what makes kindness so wonderful…is how we often find…where kindness leads the way…love is never far behind.

Think of these random thoughts as the first step in a wish for a world of kindness that I’m sending out to you…

After all…you have to take the first step…if that wish is ever to come true.

A VETERAN'S DAY LESSON

 I wish we celebrated veterans for more than just one day…I wish our ceremonies and celebrations would last…because our veteran’s don’t stop being veterans just because another Veteran’s Day has passed.

For they are more than just veterans defending our freedoms…they are our sisters and our brothers…they are our friends…our neighbors…our children…they are our fathers and our mothers.

And families know when we send them our loved ones off to fight…as we shed a tear and lovingly whisper their name…every soldier sent to war…will not come back the same.

Because war…is war…and wherever lives are lost and gunfire is exchanged…every veteran who makes it back…does not come back the same.

Which is why we, as a country, should strive to make our veteran’s futures bright…by offering them as much support when they come home as we did when we sent them off to fight.

I wish this country…our country… who our veteran’s fight to defend…

to keep us safe…and free…would treat every veteran who comes back home like a member of our family.

For there are two times we hug our family members tightest…

(something every family knows and hope one day our country will learn)

The first is when we send them off to war…

Then second…when they return.

THANK YOU

 Although I hate that there are wars…for they are proof how far from humanity sometimes we humans stray…I am proud to celebrate our soldiers every day…as well as Veterans Day.

What I love about Veteran’s day…my biggest source of pride

Is how for at least for one day, as a country, we put our differences aside…

Because those who fight our wars may be black or white or gay…

they may be men…they may be women…they may have different ways to pray…

but on Veteran’s day they are all honored as soldiers who fight to keep us free…

on Veterans Day our differences are ignored…and Americans are all we see.

Veteran’s Day…gives me hope…that one day our differences won’t matter any more…

and if so, there would be no reason to fight…there’d be no need for war.

No reason for so many lives to change…no reason for dismay…

no reason to ever to add to the list of those we remember on Memorial Day.

So as we commemorate another Veteran’s day…

my eternal thanks to all our Veterans…

our expectations you have far exceeded…

and with my thanks…

a hope 

and a prayer

that one day 

your services will no longer be needed. 

I understand the world we live in is complicated…and peace will never be as easy as it seems…but on this Veteran’s Day bear with me.…and allow one man to dream.

LESSONS UNDER THE STARS

 

He used to love walks with his mom…and his favorite walks…by far…were their evening walks along the beach paired with her lessons under the stars…

Her first lesson was to wave at all the stars as they walked along the sea.

She’d say…”I like to think…all my ancestors are waving back at me.”

Her second lesson was if he needed to make a wish…and wanted that wish to travel far…to make that wish upon the wind…and send it to a star.

She’d say, “Keep your eyes upon that star…watch it glow…if you’re lucky you’ll see it twinkle too…then you’ll know your wish has landed…and there’s a chance it will come true.

Her third lesson was whenever he was sad….not to be afraid to cry…to believe in a high-power…to believe there’s magic in the sky.

She’d say…”I’m not sure how this works and it is difficult to comprehend…but, after you begin to cry…your tears and stardust blend…

“Only for a moment, however,…a moment of transcending…as the beach is forever changed…by your tears and star’s dust blending…

“For it’s one of natures wonders…one of her secrets we may never understand…how our blended tears help create the oceans…while blended stardust forms the sand.

 

He continues to take long walks today…his favorites are still those he takes along the beach…as he remembers walking with his mom…and the lessons she would teach…

Now he walks alone,…but to her first lesson he thinks back…

and when he waves at the stars in the heavens…

he imagines it’s his mom who’s waving back.

THE MYSTERY OF TEARS

 

I have often been enamored with the magic…the mystery of tears…how all tears look the same whether they flow from our laughter…our sorrow or our fears.

If only tears were color-coded so when they begin to rain…we’d know if they were tears of joy…tears of sorrow…tears of pain…

They saw her up ahead on one of their many walks along the sand…she was sitting at the water’s edge…her head resting in her hands.

Her shoulders seemed to be shaking…her legs were intertwined…the ocean waves had reached her ankles…but she didn’t seem to mind.

They wondered…should they go to her or stay away…for often they have found…some tears flow more freely when there’s no one else around.

They noticed the blueness of her tears and though their meaning was unclear…they thought, perhaps, the color blue meant she’d like to have them near. 

She forced a smile as they approached…as teardrops filled her eyes…

“I love to come to the ocean,” she said, “whenever I feel the need to cry.”

“Whenever I feel sad or lonely…it’s the one place I can be…where every tear I cry finds a home within the sea.”

They hoped anyone passing by…would somehow understand…what the three of them were doing at the water’s edge…sitting in the sand.

Why two of them were giving silent comfort…waiting patiently…

for the other’s tears to make their slow decent and blend into the sea.

A MULLET JUMPING

 

We were walking around an arts and crafts festival when we happened upon a piece of folk art that got Deborah’s heart to thumping…

It was a colorful piece…made out of wood…in its center was a yellow mullet…jumping.

And when she read the message on the art:

‘The happy mullet jumps for the pure joy of being alive’

Her memory instantly transported her back to a day when she was five.

In a boat…with her dad upon the water…is where this memory led…

When he asked her, “Why do you think that mullet jumped?”

“Because he’s happy to be alive.” She said.

Seeing that folk art mullet jumping was truly a surprise…

and it brought a smile to her face…and a few tears to her eyes.

For a moment…when she saw it…her dad was alive…they were together…and a little girl was, once again, enthralled…

Needless to say that jumping mullet…now hangs upon our wall.

Where every time she passes it…

she’ll feel a lot of happy…and a little sad…

as she remembers a time in a boat upon the water…

with a mullet jumping…

and being together with her dad.

OUR UNIQUENESS

 

There is a world within our language that’s we’ve spoken since our childhood…

but when it is misused…does more harm than good.

DIFFERENT is the word and I wonder…wouldn’t it cause less fuss…

If when we saw another person…we didn’t see them as different from us.

For when we see someone as different…fear seeps into our hearts and minds

and where there’s fear…animosity and hatred and prejudice…are not often far behind.

What starts out merely as a way to tell me apart from you…and you apart from me…

somehow ends up with each of us treating the other differently.

We end up in a world of labels…a world of discrimination…of chaos and entropy…a world of injustice, a world of oppression…a world of wars and bigotry.

A world where suspicion and distrust rule…and seeds of animosity are sown…all because we find traits in others….that are different from our own.

What if there was a different word than different that would help our thinking to revise?

That would allow us to look upon each other with less judgmental eyes…

What if we weren’t afraid of our differences…but reveled in their mystique?

What if instead of seeing others as different…we saw each other as UNIQUE?

Perhaps then we‘d focus less on the differences and become more aware

of not only each other’s uniqueness…but what that uniqueness has to share.

He or she is different…Do you hear how in that word hoe negativity abounds?

He or she is unique….Do you hear how wonderful that sounds?

I magine, by now, you’re thinking how different I am…perhaps you’re disagreeing…wondering how I can hope and pray for a world there’s no chance I will be seeing.

Yes…as I hope to live in a world where people are more accepted and their differences less critiqued….you may call me different…but I prefer the word…unique.

BE STILL

 

Native Americans have a belief that I like to think is true…

Be still…they often say…and the Earth will speak to you.

There is an owl I pass every morning who stays hidden in a tree…but I always say ‘hello’ to him when he says ‘who’ to me.

This is the only part of our relationship that has ever come to light…two different species…connected for a moment…as we pass each other in the night.

But that all changed this morning…after we traded our normal ‘who’ and ‘hi’ when the owl took off from his hiding place and let me watch him fly.

To the top of a nearby building…high above the trees…where he lingered for a moment…then repeated his ‘who’ to me.

I smiled and waved at that old owl…his beauty on full display…he acknowledged my wave with a turn of his head…before he flew away.

I thanked him as we flew off in that moment…however fleeting…

for giving me a picture in my head of who…tomorrow…I’ll be greeting.

Be still and the Earth will speak to you…

Be still…she will find a way…

and what’s wonderful 

is in that stillness…

you never know what…

or ‘who’….

she might say.