PAINTING OF TEH FALL

 

I was brought up believing God is an artist…

that she has an artist’s eye.

How else can you explain how every day

she paints the land…the sea…the sky?

I love never knowing what painting I will see

because each day of every season she paints so differently.

Her winter colors are muted…

peace, serenity and solitude…they convey

She paints like Whistler and Picasso 

when they dabbled in white and gray

In springtime she paints in greater detail

as buds on the trees and flowers appear.

She begins to use more lively colors

and paint like da Vinci and Vermeer.

Her summer hues burst off her canvas

as the number of her pallets increase.

Diverse colors show up everywhere

as she paints like Van Gogh and Matisse.

But my favorite season of her painting

as each day I look out and am enthralled

is when her unique colors of summer

blend into impressions of the Fall.

I picture her in her heavenly studio

constantly mixing colors deciding on this day’s motif

surrounded by her brushes

as she paints…then repaints each leaf.

I love when she paints Like Whistler and Picasso in Winter,

Like da Vinci and Vermeer in Spring

And when she paints like Van Gogh and Matisse in summer

I love all the colors she brings…

But I prefer the Fall….sitting among the trees

as the sun illuminates the day…

and watching how her colors blend together…

as she paints the season like Monet.

WHEN WE REALIZE

 

When our children are babies…it is a bonus…a plus

that their circle of life is small…it totally revolves around us…

Our job is to to keep them safe and happy and warm

to love them, provide for them…and shelter them from every storm.

And when they stumble or scrape a knee…when misfortune begins to rain

to be there with a hug…a smile and a band-aid to help to ease their pain. 

But along the way,…for this is what life is meant to do,

their circle begins to broaden and expand…beyond our limited view.

And there comes a moment when they’re out of our sight…

a moment that on every parent….takes its toll…

when we realize we’re not always there to help them…

we no longer have that control.

It is the point…the moment…from where most parental worry stems…

when we realize we cannot stop…the world from hurting them.

But once our babies lives have expanded far beyond our view

not to worry…there is still something as parents we can do.

We can let our forever babies always be aware

that should they ever need us…in an instant…we’ll be there.

Recreating those times…when they were babies

we’ll be there to love, and hug and feed them….

we’ll bring our smiles, our hugs…

and our band-aids

should they ever need them.

HOW WILL WE BE REMEMBERED

 

 Sometimes we humans can be mystifyingly cruel…

it is our most bewildering abnormality

when we are heartless, prejudice, unaccepting, 

and treat others with self-righteous brutality.

Children being kidnapped…taken in a flash…

murdered…with no regard for human life…

then thrown away like trash,

Other children slain in their schools…lives taken in their early dawn

never knowing the life they might have lived…how far they might have gone. 

And it’s not just our children…we are cruel to people of all ages.

Families looking for freedom in our country are deported…and put in cages. 

People are bought and sold for sex…women are abused

Survivors of these tragedies…and the rest of us…

are left bewildered and confused.

We find this news when it reaches us…disgusting and and mind numbing…

but the atrocities, like Cornell University,

despite our sorrow…keep on coming.

Wars and hatred, genocide, mass murders… tyrants, oppressors, dictators

I can’t imagine this is the world imagined…by our gods and our creators.

I use to wonder why our all-loving Gods from wherever they are viewing…

haven’t used their powers to step in…when they see what we are doing.

I do not know the answer…although I am sadly filled with doubt

perhaps the Gods who created us…want us to figure it out.

Which makes me wonder…

Will this human society we’ve created be remembered

for the humans who these senseless acts of brutality…

so callously onto other humans drop them…

Or for those humans who stood by…

saw all these different forms of cruelty

and did nothing to try and stop them.

ANOTHER CHANCE

 

We have a chance each morning…

before we walk out our front door 

to be a better person…

than we were the day before…

Right away we notice…

when our feet first hit the floor

that we are a little different 

than we were the day before.

Certainly we’re one day older…

but there’s also something more…

more than just our age 

that makes us different than before.

Love and loss…victory and defeat…

we never know what’s in store

whatever happened yesterday…good or bad 

makes us a little different t

han we were the day before.

Each day brings with it new adventures…

each moment we’re awake

and we hope we learn as much from our successes 

as we do from our mistakes.

But on we go…we forge ahead…

out into the world we soar…

hoping today we are a little better 

than we were the day before.

Perhaps a little kinder, more compassionate, 

more accepting…and what’s more…

perhaps a little wiser t

han we were the day before.

If not…there is one consolation…

tomorrow…

when our feet first hit the floor

we’ll be given another chance 

to be a little better 

than we were the day before.

HARVEST MOON

 

 I awoke from a dream early this morning,

stepped outside…was met by a cold autumnal breeze

and the glow of the harvest moon

over the mountains…peeking through the trees.

I was reminded of a legend

one with an indigenous theme

that…If for some reason you can’t sleep at night

It means you’re awake in someone else’s dream. 

If that was the case I stood in the cold…

enjoying the crickets nightly tune

and watched through the trees and over the mountains 

the setting of that harvest moon

I watched her shine her light across the sky…

watched her slowly drop…

watched her wave goodbye…

and dive behind the mountain top.

And I thought…

if I am awake in someone else’s dream

wherever they may be

there dream will be a beautiful dream

if they’re dreaming my reality.

THE RAIN FLOWER

 

Many of the flowers of summer have departed with the cooler autumn looming

but standing proudly in our back yard…one hydrangea is still blooming.

From a large hydrangea shrub…one single bloom stands tall…. 

helping the colors of summer transition to the fall.

There is a Japanese legend which carries 

it’s own unique mystical power…

in this legend the hydrangea…

is known as the rain flower.

In a drought all the rain flowers were about to be lost

filling the countryside with fear…

until the entire collection was saved

by a young man’s single tear.

A tear that fell from his weeping eyes

into the wilted bloom of the flower everyone craved

and miraculously from that one tear…

every rain flower was saved.

I think about that legend…

think of its enchanting and magical power

As I sit on our porch enjoying the color

of this years last rain flower.

I feel lucky seeing the last rain flower of the season

standing tall and proud and blue…

witnessing her farewell performance

before she bids the fall adieu.

And when this final bloom is gone…

I’ll be looking forward to the spring

When…

the clouds send their tears down to where she is sleeping

and wake her up to bloom again.