SPINNING PLATES

 When I think of all the times my parents took me to the circus when I was young…I’m filled with all the memories that thought creates…one of my favorite memories was watching those jugglers spinning plates.

The juggler would place a plate upon a pole…then looking out at the audience and. grinning, he or she, with deft of hands, would start that plate to spinning.

Then they’d place another plate on another pole…and another…and another…all the while still grinning…until there were a bunch of plates on a bunch of poles and all the plates were spinning.

The juggler would run from plate to plate with but one objective…one aim…one goal…

to make sure every plate kept spinning on each and every pole.

When I was young the lesson in those spinning plates didn’t occur to me…

until years later when I was married…with a job…and a family.

In the beginning it was effortless and you’d always find me grinning…

with a wife and a job…just two plates…it was easy to keep them spinning.

Add children and friends and more responsibilities and it became harder to keep all my plates spinning…at first I was a little overwhelmed..and you wouldn’t alway find me grinning.

Until one day I realized…as each morning out of bed I climb…all that each plate needs from me…is a little of my time.

A little time to keep each plate balanced…a little time to keep each one spinning…

A little time with each plate…and all of us are grinning.

And I’m happy with my life shaped by destiny…the one I helped create…

where a little time is all I need to balance every plate.

Which is why, now, with my life in balance…

with every plate up and spinning…

like those jugglers in the circus…

you will always find me grinning.

LIKE MAGIC

 

He gently touched his cheek to hers…

at a time when sadness interrupted their nights

and spread throughout their days…

and the moment their tears blended into one…

as if by magic…

so did they.

WHAT'S IN A NAME

 

What’s in a name? That’s what Juliet wants to know when she sadly discovers the last name of her beloved Romeo.

And as a way of coping…of cushioning the pain…

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” She doth explain.

Like most people I’ve had a variety of names…which I have happily worn…

James is the name my parent gave me on the day that I was born.

But as I grew up James seemed too formal and one day…on a whim…I made the decision from that day forward that everyone would call me Jim.

Then I married and lo and behold…a father I became….

I was Jim to my wife and Daddy to my children…suddenly I had two names.

And when my daughter married and a mother she became…

I was Jim and Dad and PopPop…now I had three names.

My christened name James was biblical…it had dignity and grace…

but Jim and Dad and PopPop are the names that bring a smile to my face.

Three names I am now called that help to make my life complete.

It matters not which one I hear for they all sound as sweet.

Whatever I’m called my hope remains the same…

that you embrace the person I am…the one who stands behind the name.

So when I’m gone…when I’ve finally departed this world..this time..this place…

whatever name you remember me by…will bring a smile to your face.

Perhaps that should be our goal in life…our one ambition…our final aim…

I wonder if that’s what Juliet meant when she asked…What’s in a name?’

NEVER PICK A WILDFLOWER

 “Grandma look! Wildflowers!” I’m going to pick one for you and one for me.”

Grandma smiled, shook her head then said, “I think it’s best to let them be.”

“Some people think wildflowers are ours to pick…but I have to disagree…

Wildflowers are for us enjoy as they feed the butterflies and bees.”

"I will never picked a wildflower…not knowing how long that seed has waited…for its moment in the sun…for its bloom to be created.”

“I will never pick a wildflower…knowing once I pick it…it immediately begins to die…knowing the flowers that surround her…immediately begin to cry.”

“Every wildflower is beautiful…I consider every one…a friend.

How can I pick one knowing the moment I pick it…its beauty begins to end?”

“No, Instead I choose to gaze upon the wildflowers…enjoying their colors and their blooms…to breathe the air around them…to inhale their sweet perfume.”

“I’d rather watch the wildflowers as each day they continue to grow. 

I’d rather marvel at how the sunlight and the morning dew makes the wildflowers glow.”

“No, I will never picked a wildflower…I choose to let them be…

Because I understand that wildflowers were not created just for me.”

So the granddaughter, holding her Grandma’s hand, enjoyed the colors…enjoyed the blooms…then closed her eyes and inhaled the wildflowers sweet perfume.

As they walked away the granddaughter looked back and a happy tear fell from her eye…knowing she’s leaving the wildflowers for the butterflies, 

for the bees…

and for the next little girls who passes by.

AS DIFFERENT AS NIGHT AND DAY

 Two brothers born 18 months apart…now both old and grey…

who people said throughout their lives were as different as night and day,

They had different interests growing up…different likes and different friends….

They liked different foods , different movies…followed different trends.

They pursued different paths in life…different goals they sought

One was quiet and reserved…the other one was not,.

One became a teacher shaping young minds…attempting to help his students get ahead…The other became a carpenter…shaping wood instead.

One is married with children and grandchildren…a large, happy family

One has been single all his life and lives autonomously.

And though they do both love to write….to tap into their creativity…

One writes science fiction stories…the other writes poetry.

You can see why people have remarked in almost every way..,

how these two brothers…from the same family…are as different as night and day…

But have you ever watched the sun rise in the morning….celebrated her fist light…

as she peeks from under…then slowly lifts the blanket of the night?

Or have you ever watched the sun set…at the conclusion of the day…

watch the cloak of night slowly fill the sky and the daylight fade away?

There is magic in the way day and night share the sky 

as one day begins and another ends….

magic in the way their shapes and colors blend….

Which has to make one wonder…..

If there is magic in the sky when day and night interplay….

perhaps there’s also magic in two brothers…as different as night and day.

BIG BROTHER

 Congratulations! You’re going to be a big brother!

This is a special day!

Your Mommy and Daddy just found out…

your baby sister’s on her way.

We know whoever she is…

whatever name your parents pick

she’ll be bringing along with her

your fist lessons in arithmetic.

With a beautiful face we’re sure you’ll soon come to adore…

she’ll teach you simple addition…how 3 + 1 makes 4.

She’ll teach you about subtraction…

you will make the perfect pair…

and you’ll learn how much you miss her…

those times when she’s not there.

She’ll teach you how to share

how to divide things into equal parts.

You’ll learn how sharing is a gift

that comes from somewhere in your heart.

You’ll wonder where all the love you’re feeling for her comes from..

If it was hiding deep inside?

And how, once she arrived, the love within your family…

so quickly multiplied.

All this and more she will teach you..

and one day it’ll be your turn…

to teach her these same lessons…

when she is old enough to learn.

1000 ORANGES

 It seems appropriate this poem begin…and end…with a knock knock joke.

Knock Knock…Who’s there…

Orange…Orange who?

I wonder what answer this question will evoke…

This is the story of an artist…who had a problem…a problem he wanted to solve…

and although I can’t be certain, because I wasn’t there initially, I hear alcohol was involved.

The problem: how to circumvent the bureaucracy, the red tape and all those committees…and surreptitiously (that means in secret) bring more art into our city.

So one night he and an artist friend…while attempting to stay out of sight

took paint and brushes in their hands…and in the dead of night

quietly and in secret they crept…taking pains to keep their silhouettes small…

then crawled up to a building and painted one orange upon its wall.

Knock Knock…Who’s there…

Orange…Orange who?

(as you can see we decided about half-way through

The knock knock joke we started with…should show up in the middle too).

They decided to keep it quiet…in case anyone protested…

knowing they were both too pretty to go to jail…if they ever were arrested.

No…they never got arrested…in fact people of Dunedin were so enthralled

more and more of them wanted this artist to paint oranges upon their walls.

This artist stepped out of the shadows when people offered to pay him for his prints…and with paint and brushes in hand…he’s been painting oranges ever since.

We wonder, Steve, did you have any idea…how your artistic prank would grow…

when you painted in the dead of night…over 1000 oranges ago?

And now, finally, the answer to the knock knock joke…(I know you’re all relieved)

Knock Knock…Who’s there…

Orange…Orange who? 

Orange you glad Dunedin has an artist as talented as Steve.

HIS BROTHER'S HANDS

 He’s often marveled at this brother’s hands…and had a hard time waiting

to see the wondrous works of art his brother’s hands would be creating.

His brother was a master carpenter who, ever since their childhood

had the ability to discover and release the beauty in the wood.

His brother’s mind would do the creating…come up with the detailed plans…

then gladly cede construction to the skill in his brother’s hands.

But…over the years arthritis invaded his brother’s hands…and his ability for multitasking

making it difficult for his brother’s hands to do what his brother’s mind was asking.

So…his brother decided to have surgery on his hands…hopefully to get back…

some of the abilities…the dexterity…his once skilled hands now lacked.

His brother asked if he’d accompany him…to see his surgery through…

and, if he had the time, to stay a day or two.

His brother said he’d be there…thinking it’d be sweet…

to stay until his brother…and his hands…were back upon their feet.

For brothers have a special bond…

built in childhood that throughout life they understand….

Whenever one brother needs it…

his brother be there to lend a helping hand.

WHAT HE WILL MISS

The funeral was over and as a new day dawned…

He was asked, “What will you miss most about him…now that he is gone?”

He did not answer right away…no…he thought on it a while…

as tears fell from his eyes and caught the corners of his smile.

And for a moment…a lovely moment…he felt lighter than the breeze…

as he floated on his tears through a sea of memories.

Then, with sorrow and joy harmonizing together in his tone…

“I will miss those moments that belonged to us.” He said.

“Moment that were ours…and ours alone.” 

I AM

 I am history you insidious people!

by definition I have happened and I have passed.

You cannot erase my memories…for my influence is vast.

People know what happened! 

Your attempts to ignore me is barbaric and misbegotten.

People know what happened!…and people talk…

therefore…I shall never be forgotten.

I am books you ignorant people!

I am written to make you think, to make you angry…to inspire.

Any attempt to burn or ban me will ultimately backfire.

People will remember words they’ve read.

Your attempts to remove them is barbaric and misbegotten.

My words will be re-written…therefore…they shall never be forgotten.

I am free speech you fools!

I originate in the minds of people from the East, West, North and South.

Do you think you can stop my mind from thinking just because you close my mouth?

Your attempts to take away my speech is barbaric and misbegotten.

Because I refuse to wear your muzzle…hence…my words will never be forgotten.

Yes…I am history, I am books, I am free speech!

Your attempts to ignore me…to ban me…to silence me…

will always be barbaric and misbegotten.

Because…In spite of these attempts I shall endure…

and I shall be remembered……

long after you have been forgotten.

A LITTLE BIT OF HEAVEN ON EARTH

 I was brought up quite religiously; we were taught heaven was up in the sky,

when we died, if we were good down here, there was a place for us on high.

A place where miracles happen every day in this paradise floating above

where we walk with angels among the softness of the clouds, enveloped by love.

When I grew up and began to think for myself, to question and to clarify

I kept returning to this concept of Heaven and couldn’t help but wonder why...

Why wait for Heaven to experience miracles when so many miracles can be found 

happening before our eyes…right here…on the ground.

Every day is filled with miracles…miracles large and small….

So many miracles abound we can’t possibly count them all.

From the highest mountains…to the deepest valleys…from the tiniest shrubs to the tallest trees…from the the kaleidoscope of colors in the sky…to the breath of an invisible breeze.

From the birth of a baby whale at sea…to the birds that populate the sky…

From the gentleness of the elephant to the metamorphosis of a butterfly… 

From the tides in the largest ocean…to the tiniest babbling brook

miracles are all around us…all we have to do…is look

I've been blessed to be at the birth of my children and grandchildren and don’t think it’s preposterous to say…in the maternity ward of a hospital you walk among angels every day. 

I’ve experienced love…I’ve watched my family grow and blossom and thrive…

I have witnessed the beauty of sunrises and sunsets…all while I’m still alive.

Which makes me question if my original concept of Heaven was wrong…

if my religious teaching was remiss

as I look around at the miracles in my life…I wonder…can it get any better than this?

There might be a Heaven high up in the clouds…

a place where, once we die, we experience a rebirth

In the meantime 

I’m happy with my little slice of Heaven

right here…

right now…

on Earth.

THE CRUMBS

 Her wedding vows were simple, heartfelt and concise…

“If love is the bread of life,” she said, 

“I promise all my love with every slice.

A smile crossed his face and tears welled in his eyes.

He could not hide his happiness…

his contentment…

his surprise.

For he knew in their life together…

in their future…

whatever comes…

He would have been just as happy…

living off the crumbs.

WE NEVER KNOW

 WE NEVER KNOW

I think about that day every now and then…it remains a special one…

a day we decide, on a whim, to change our plans…go to a park 

and watch the setting sun.

I remember as the sun was setting how an orange hue filled the sky.

when a man with his Golden on a leash…happened to walk by.

After exchanging smiles he held up his camera and asked apologetically 

“If you don’t mind…would you please take a few pictures of my dog and me?"

“I’d like a photograph of our last sunset.” He said as tears fell from his eyes.

“You see she’s old and she is sick…and tomorrow we say goodbye.”

“I’ve had her since she was a puppy…and she’s 12 years old this week…

In truth my heart is breaking…even as we speak.”

“I would love to have one last photo together…one more memory before the end.”

So Deborah gladly snapped some pictures…of this man and his best friend.

It was a beautiful sunset…and as I watched the sun gently sliding down the sky

I thought this is truly a wonderful way for them to say goodbye.

Once the photos were taken the man sat down and told us what a good dog she has been….all the while Deborah patted her back while I rubbed that old dog’s chin.

When we departed we were glad we had the sunset…glad for the beautiful weather

and glad we played a small part in their last few moments together.

What I think about now…is how none of it was planned…

how we didn’t end up where we started to go…

but that’s what makes this day so special…because some days…you never know.

You never know if the day you’ve outlined…the hours you’ve diagrammed

will work out the way you thought they would….If everything will go as planned.

I suppose that’s what makes life interesting….

in the midst of the world we are creating…

we never know what wonderful surprises 

are somewhere…out there…waiting.

EPHEMERAL

 

Life…our very existence is ephemeral…from the moment of our birth none of us know how long or short will be our time upon this Earth.

Every person alive today is but one solitary leaf…whose stay upon the tree of life is relatively brief.

We never know if we’ll survive a harsh winter or a simple summer squall…we have no idea throughout the years in what season we will fall.

Knowing this, however, should make our mission in life quite clear…

to try and bring as much joy and happiness into our world while we all are here.

To discover what we have to offer…

and once discovered…to go out in the world and give it…

not to waste a moment of our ephemeral life…

but to get out there and live it.

PASSING SHIPS

 With most of the people we see every day…we’re like ships that pass in the night.

We see there’s someone over there…but we don’t often experience their light.

One of the things I love about working in a bookstore is how our ships slow down as they pass one another in the night…how, for a moment, we get to experience…and share…in one another’s light.

An old man came into the bookstore…every step he took was strained…

His shoulders were stooped forward, his head bent down…and in his left hand he held a cane.

With his posture fixed in that permanent position…his eyes only able to see his shoes…I imagine seeing all the books on our shelves was difficult to do.

Most people who walk into a bookstore like to browse by themselves…in the warmth of the books they love to bask…so we welcome them in as they enter and let them know…if they have any questions…to ask.

This man browsed for a while…up and down the bookshelves he did look…when he finally approached me at the counter he said, “I’m looking for a specific book.”

“You found it!” He said as I handed it to him…his smile made his face seem to shine

“I bet it was on the top shelf.” he said… I nodded…as his eyes shifting up to meet mine…

And with that we began a conversation…he said he once lived in Dunedin…told me how he rode his bike before to his accident…how he was so much more active…how there was so much more he could do…before his body was bent.

He said it’s amazing how fast life can change…how it doesn’t always go the way we design…how his life changed that day in his car…when he was hit by another car from behind.

He’s already had surgery on his back…and more surgeries are planned….

He’s in town to consult with his doctor…about surgery on his right hand.

We talked for a while…and I found myself forgetting about the curvature of his spine

as he told me about more about his life and I told him a little about mine

He paid for his book, put it in his backpack and as he shuffled out the door

I could swear the light from his ship, like mine, glowed a little brighter than before.

I thought about him, again, as I closed the store…after turning out the light….

glad our two ships had a chance to meet and not just pass each other in the night.

ACTS OF KINDNESS

 An act of kindness, 

however small, 

is never wasted…

or so the saying goes.

for that one act of kindness casts a seed 

from which more kindness grows

Which makes me wonder

when I stop to think about it all…

if any act of kindness…

can ever be considered small.

TRADITIONS

 As a family grows and changes…as far as I can tell…the traditions we hold near and dear need to grow and change as well.

Gathering everyone together is no longer an easy thing to do…so…to celebrate our summer birthdays…this is what we do:

We pick one day in July…one day on which everyone can agree…and we celebrate seven summer birthdays…simultaneously.

It is one compromise we make to time and how fast she’s passing by…

but…when we get together…it’s like Christmas in July!

A cake is placed upon the table with Happy Birthday and seven names all printed out…(Covid altered another tradition…there are no candles to blow out).

We sing a rousing ‘Happy Birthday’ after which seven people close they eyes…

and together we watch seven wishes float up to the sky.

After the cake is eaten and the presents are opened comes the part that always makes me smile…it’s the time we get to spend together…as a family…for a while.

This year time once again altered our tradition…so we had to look ahead…and our July summer birthday party…was moved to August instead.

But we did time one better in this year’s summer party edition…we brought out some fireworks…and started a new birthday tradition.

It’s funny how when I was young…My cake…My candles…My presents were all that I could see…I thought much more about myself…and less about my family.

I am older now and from that self-centered young boy’s thinking…I’ve been freed!

Now I know in any celebration…

having my family around me…

is the only tradition I’ll ever need.

OLIVIA'S EYES

We had the pleasure of attending Olivia’s birthday party…

an afternoon filled with joy and laughter and fun…

Olivia is our grand niece and on this birthday…she turned 1.

At Olivia’s birthday party…for me…the biggest prize…

was the chance to view the world…for a moment…through Olivia’s eyes.

As Olivia’s eyes looked out at all those gathered…a uniquely wonderful blend …she saw a wide variety of people she’ll soon know as family and friends 

I saw those people’s smiles…their laughter and their sighs…

I saw their joy…and I saw their love…reflected in Olivia’s eyes. 

I saw her innocence and joy…I saw her confusion, her wonder and surprise…

I even saw a few tears flow out from Olivia’s eyes. 

As I gazed into Olivia’s eyes I realized this is how life is supposed to be…surrounded by people who love you…in a world more innocent and free….

I remembered a time when my world was small and comfortable…like Olivia’s

when the only eyes I could see…were my mom’s and dad’s and my friends and family…holding on to me.

I imagine we all left her party with our own feelings of joy…of wonder and surprise…

having been blessed, at least for a moment, to see the world through Olivia’s eyes

Hoping what we saw in Olivia’s eyes that day…

will somehow see us through…

until we gather together again next year…

when Olivia turns 2.

THE LANGUAGE OF NATURE- THE SEQUEL

 

Yesterday, on my morning walk, 

(as usual…this happens by chance) 

I wrote a poem about nature…

and her language of romance.

It was a short poem that I finished early…

(I don’t mean to gloat)

so I took the time left walking 

to read the words I wrote.

I wrote about the birds in the sky 

and the creatures that inhabit the seas

I wrote about the flowers and the mountains…

the rivers and the trees.

I originally only mentioned the wind 

and the messages all of the above contain…

but when I reached the part about the wind…

out of nowhere it began to rain.

from the raindrops falling on my head…

I was able to ascertain

nature was trying to tell me something,,,

this was a message from the rain.

So I immediately added rain into my poem…

and, with part of my walk still remaining,

like magic…as quickly as it began…

it immediately stopped raining.

So it seems…even though I cannot speak the language of nature…

(which I consider a great loss)

sometimes nature finds a way…

to get her point across.

LANGUAGE OF ROMANCE

 I do not speak another language…

I use to think, if I had the chance, 

I would choose French, Italian or Spanish…

you know…the languages of romance.

But over the years of taking a walk 

at the beginning of each day…

I now wish I spoke the language of nature…

and understood what she is trying to say.

I wish I knew the language of the birds that soar across the sky 

and all the creatures that swim under the seas…

I wish I knew the langue of the flowers, the mountains, 

the rivers and the trees.

I wish I knew the language of the wind and the rain 

as they flow by me through the air…

If I could speak their language…imagine all the secrets…

all the knowledge they could share.

Yes, now as I take my morning walks

I wish I had the chance 

to learn how to communicate in natures tongue…

the one true language of romance.

WILD IMAGINATIONS

 

They love to play a game they call ‘Let’s Imagine’ because they never know the things that they will do or the places they will go.

They might imagine they’re riding on a cloud…or walking among the stars…that they are sitting on the edge of a crescent moon their next stops…Jupiter and Mars.

They might imagine themselves on a pirate ship upon the ocean…standing on its deck…or speeding across the sky holding on to the back of a dragon’s neck.

It’s funny how, in their imaginations, you will always find…the pirates are good pirates…and their dragons…gentle and kind.

They might imagine themselves inside a bubble soaring high above the land…or performing in front of thousands of people as the leaders of a band.

They might imagine each raindrop is a different color…or riding with the toys on Santa’s sleigh…or a world where pizza is the only meal…served three times every day.

They might imagine they are in a field filled with ice cream, candy and cakes…where nothing ever melts and their stomachs never ache.

They might imagine they are gliding with the birds or swimming with the fishes in the sea…for they have the power to imagine themselves to be anything they want to be.

“They have such wild imaginations!” 

That’s what their teachers and their parents say…

which always makes the smile… 

because 

they can’t imagine being any other way.

BLESSINGS

 He wanted to count his blessings the other day

all the blessing that have come his way….

but much to his chagrin

as his list he began creating

once he started contemplating 

he wasn’t sure…where to begin

Should he start with his mom and dad…

and all the memories they had?

After all…their blessings started him on his way.

Should he start this blessing climb 

back to an earlier time

to his ancestors…who helped to make him who is is today?

Should he start with the oceans and the trees

the birds, the butterflies…the bees

All the blessings that await outside his door?

Should he start with all the food that keeps him fed

all the books that he has read…

all those who have allowed his imagination to soar?

Should he start with his friends and family

who help him every day to see?

Surely in his life they’ve played an important part.

They’ve picked him up when he’s been down

brought a smile to every frown

they continue to caress his soul and touch his heart.

Then from deep within his heart

he knew where he should start…

and immediately he began to grin….

for the greatest of his blessings…

is having so many of them…that he doesn’t know where to begin.

THE JOURNEY

 He walked until there was no more land…then he took a boat across the seas.

He climbed the highest mountain…where, high above the trees

he found the wise one waiting…sitting with the sun behind her peeking.

He hoped she could provide him with the answers he was seeking.

“Before you ask your questions.” She said. “After your long journey across the sea.  Please sit down, relax, and share a cup of tea with me.”

They shared a cup of tea in silence…but she could see his patience wearing thin…

“You have questions?” She observed. He sighed, “Where do I begin?”

With every question he would pose…she’d listen and nod her head silently

then ask what he thought was the answer…as she slowly sipped her tea.

After each question he would answer she’d refill his cup without making a sound…

and he slowly began to realize where his answers could be found.

When it came time for him to go…when his questioning was through

he smiled saying, “I’ve come a long way seeking answers I already knew.”

He thanked her for her guidance…and the best tea he ever tasted….

She smiled saying, “It’s nice to know your journey was not wasted.”

He thinks about her often now…

in his continuing search for peace and harmony

as he journeys to his kitchen…

and pours himself a cup of tea.