BIRD THAT SINGS IN THE DARK

There is a bird in the morning when the sky is painted black

Who every other bird I’m sure, must think a maniac...

While all her friends are sleeping...heads nestled neath their wings

this bird rises before the rest...and all she does...is sing.

She sings at the top of her lungs...before the sun’s first glow.

Does she know morning is approaching?  

It’s dark...how can she know?

But she fills the night with music...my morning walk with grace

and tho I’ve never seen her...I imagine there’s a smile on her face.

It’s such a lovely song she sings during the day/night interlude

and I admire her determination...her faith...her fortitude.

In this time of uncertainty and apprehension…

when it’s confidence we lack

We can draw inspiration from a bird 

who sings in the morning

when the sky is painted black.

FORGIVENESS

It’s ironic how, when our heart’s been broken

we find it difficult to live

with the heartache we are feeling

making it impossible to forgive

How only when we release that hurt

and finally forgive

does our heart begins to heal

and we find it easier to live…

For we should always be defined

as we constantly transcend…

Not by how easily our heart can break

but how beautifully it can mend.

ONE

When you stop and think about it…when all is said and done

There is a reason, when we count our blessings, we always start with 1.

One sun floats above us filling our day with light

and as we fall sleep one moon illuminates our night.

One drop of water begins an ocean…a river or the sea.

A garden begins with one flower…a forest with one tree.

Our life begins with one breath…one speck of dirt begins the land.

All the beaches of the world begin with one tiny grain of sand.

And when it comes to counting…I would not want to miss

how a friendship can begin with one smile…

or love…one touch….one kiss

We have but one life to live…one heart, one mind…one soul

so as we’re counting blessings…perhaps it should be our goal

to keep in mind that remarkable…that beautiful number 1…

The origin…

the genesis…

where every blessing has begun.

A LITTLE WORM

We are born…we live…we die…that’s the way it’s supposed to be

We are all bound by the circle of life…and our own mortality.

I noticed her as I walked outside…she was hanging from a tree

A little worm…her color green…and she seemed to smile at me.

I was confused at first by her greeting…but I returned her smile

then I sat down next to her…and we visited for a while.

“Hey there little worm.” I asked. “What brings you here hanging by that thread?”

The little worm smiled as she swayed to and fro, “It was the wind,.” she said.

“And I am not a worm I am a caterpillar.” she corrected me with a sigh…

“One day I shall be a moth or, perhaps, a butterfly.”

“One day I will be even more beautiful.”

Here she looked up at the sky.

“One day I will have wings…one day…I will fly.”

And nether of us could have predicted that would be her final word

because when she finished speaking…she was eaten by a bird.

And I felt betrayed by time, deceived…as this caterpillar was cheated…

as her circle of her life was all too soon completed.

And once again…a lesson taught…much to my chagrin…

how in some way every life is at the mercy of the wind.

How we never know what fate…what destiny lies ahead…

How all our lives, when we stop to think about it, are hanging by a thread.

How life will one day end…we don’t know when…or why

How we never know how far we’ll go…or if ever we will fly….

But if there is one lesson from this caterpillar I find endlessly redeeming….

It would be wherever we are in the circle of life…

to never stop our dreaming.

IF I WAS GOD FOR A DAY

Sometimes when the world saddens me

at night when I fold my hands to pray

I like to think how things would be quite different

If I was God…for a day.

The first thing I’d do is eliminate hate

I’d throw everyone’s hate away

I’d replace all their hate with love

If I was God…for a day.

With love in our hearts we’d accept everyone

we meet along the way

no matter how different they seem to us…

If I was God…for a day.

If I was God…for a day.

Everyone would grow up healthy, safe, secure and well fed

We’d all live long and happy lives 

and die peacefully in our beds.

I’m sure there’d be more to do

more problems to face along the way

but this seems like a great place to start

If I was God…for a day.

Of course this will most likely never happen

I may never get to be God for a day

but at least it gives me something to hope for

at night…when I fold my hands to pray.

ONE HEART

When the seas around us are choppy

when the times ahead are tough… 

If I can make one heart a little brighter

then I have done enough.

Because if I make one person smile

If I brighten one person’s day

There’s a good chance they will take that smile

and send it on it’s way.

Eventually that one smile 

will find its way to you

then you will take that smile

and brighten one heart too.

For we know even in our darkest times

like being quarantined by the flu…

sometimes brightening one heart

is all that we can do.

Which is why I repeat when the seas around us are choppy

When the times ahead are tough

If we all can make one heart a little brighter

then we have done enough.

WAVES OF LIFE

“Granddad, how come you have so many wrinkles on your face?”

She asked as he tucked her into bed.

“I don’t think of them a wrinkles…more like waves of life.” He said.

“Each wave carries with it a thought, an emotion a feeling

It’s own memory.”

Then he leaned his face down close to hers…

“Touch one and you’ll see.”

She touched a wave, he smiled, 

“Oh that one is really good.

That’s the day I asked your Grandma to marry me

that same day…she said she would.”

She touched another one.  Granddad closed his eyes.

“That one happened not too long ago…it was in the early morn.

That’s the first time I set eyes on you…the day when you were born.”

She touched another and in her mind it’s the first time her Granddad ever cried.

“That’s a sad one.” He whispered in her ear. “It’s the day your GreatGranddad died.”

She hesitated before touching another one…

“Is there anyway to know Grandad…

which memories are the happy ones and which ones are the sad?”

“No there isn’t.” Her Grandad said. “But there’s no need to fear

for every life, if it’s well lived, has it’s share of laughter, joy and tears.”

“When it comes to memories…happy…sad…memories big…or small

our waves of life do not distinguish…they record them all.”

She continued touching her granddad’s waves and each time out a memory would seep

and he kept telling her stories until she faded off to sleep.

Now whenever her granddad comes to visit…

as he tucks her in…

after they embrace….

He smiles as he asks if she’d like him to read her a Fairy Tale…

knowing her answer…

”No, Granddad I’d rather read your face.”