Help me choose
love, not ego.
Sharpen my mind
to question.
Strengthen my soul
to abide.
Guide my choices
toward balance.
Open my heart
to listen.
Open my eyes
to injustice.
Increase my wisdom
to discern.
Fortify my courage
to act.
Amplify my voice
to speak.
Quicken my spirit
to rejoice.
Soften my will.
to accept.
Help me choose
love not ego.
Victoria Hendricks
Friday, December 31, 2010
New Years Prayer
We've had wonderful visiting and everone else got tired and went to bed early. I'm not surprised as late talking has kept us up through the nights and I'm hte only one who has slept in. My Dad, bless him, would be proud of us because we are following two of his traditions for luck. We got the Christmas decorations down today and will be eating black eyed peas tomorrow.
I had the treat of having a knitting lesson from Mary Lee tonight. Learning feels difficult but possible. I have barely started on a soft gray, VERY EASY winter hat for liam, who collects and adores hats. I want to try more things that are new to me this year, especially creative projects and skills.
On a more serious note, 2010 was a tough year for our family, lots of change and loss, which created anxiety and doubts in me. I can't know 2011 will be any easier, but I found myself crafting a prayer of resolve for the new year. No matter what happens, I can handle it better.
Prayer of Resolve - 2011
Help me choose
love, not ego.
Sharpen my mind
to question.
Strengthen my soul
to abide.
Guide my choices
toward balance.
Open my heart
to listen.
Open my eyes
to injustice.
Increase my wisdom
to discern.
Fortify my courage
to act.
Amplify my voice
to speak.
Quicken my spirit
to rejoice.
Soften my will.
to accept.
Help me choose
love not ego.
Victoria Hendricks
anuary 1, 2011
.
__,_._,___
I had the treat of having a knitting lesson from Mary Lee tonight. Learning feels difficult but possible. I have barely started on a soft gray, VERY EASY winter hat for liam, who collects and adores hats. I want to try more things that are new to me this year, especially creative projects and skills.
On a more serious note, 2010 was a tough year for our family, lots of change and loss, which created anxiety and doubts in me. I can't know 2011 will be any easier, but I found myself crafting a prayer of resolve for the new year. No matter what happens, I can handle it better.
Prayer of Resolve - 2011
Help me choose
love, not ego.
Sharpen my mind
to question.
Strengthen my soul
to abide.
Guide my choices
toward balance.
Open my heart
to listen.
Open my eyes
to injustice.
Increase my wisdom
to discern.
Fortify my courage
to act.
Amplify my voice
to speak.
Quicken my spirit
to rejoice.
Soften my will.
to accept.
Help me choose
love not ego.
Victoria Hendricks
anuary 1, 2011
.
__,_._,___
2010 in poems
January 2010
Sobering month.
Pulmonary embolism
we mistook for asthma,
barely treated in time.
You could have died.
I could now mourn,
close my first widow year.
Instead, we plan road trip
through Civil Rights sites,
update our bird lists,
wake in each others' arms.
Each day I remember January
and give you an extra kiss.
February 2010
Last winter's babies
turn one, chase in park
on strong little legs, laugh.
Scruffy Duffy dog wags
wiggly into family hearts,
funny, furry. Still I worry
if family has strength, hope
reserve, forgiveness to thrive
as winter warms into spring.
March 2010
Redbuds bloom.
I hold on,
hope against hope,
for new energy
to face old problems.
I hold on,
deny inevitable force
of winds of change.
April 2010
Your son naps beneath mural of Grove of The Patriarchs,
on hot Texas afternoon, sweaty sleepy, post park,
You nurse him on his own big bed, kiss damp curls,.
in the room that was yours until you made it his,
the room I decorated with rainbows for you
before you were born, the room from which I rescued
you at three from raging midnight flames, the room
whose furniture you rearranged so many teen age nights,
the room in which "You are My Sunshine".still echoes.
in the voice of your father, dead before memories settled.
You left at seventeen, started college early, found love,
made a home, made art, longed for babies, cried, laughed,
built strong marriage, took your husband to your sanctuary,
of cool misty air, soft filtered light, life rising from life.
Grove of the Patriarchs on slopes of Mt. Ranier,
took off your shoes and lay, silent, vulnerable, still
within ancient circle of holy trees, barren among
nurse logs, You lost a daughter, gave birth to a son,
brought him home to your grove within his own room.
Your son naps beneath mural of Grove of Patriarchs.
May 2010
anxiety rises
heart races
hands shake
no monster threatens
no deadline looms
no illness dooms
nothing external
justifies fear
anxiety rises
on her own terms
monster enough
June 2010
One foot in front of the other,
when best efforts fail.
One foot in front of the other.
when love fails to heal,
one foot in front of the other.,
when prayers ring empty,
one foot in front of the other.
when protection fails,
one foot in front of the other,
when fear clouds reason,
one foot in front of the other,
no matter what demons,
one foot in front of the other.
July 2010
I recognise the hollows. I did it too,
managed impression, with both of my parents,
let them believe I cared about getting the PhD,
scrubbed the baseboards before visits, practiced
the order of introductions, even took down the
yard sign for candidates and causes they despised.
I tried so hard to be a different kind of mother,
one you could tell, show anything, everything.
Effort does not always pay off. I keep trying.
August 2010
I struggle to write about family. Too complex, close to the bone, mixed. Did I raise a good family? Did I do my best? Does that even matter? What will happen to my daughters, their children? What choices will they make, what impact? how much of that is my responsibility and how much can I still change? Family is so vital, so intense, so mixed. I need it so much - need my daughters to be strong and ethical and good - so I can know I succeeded and so I can feel their love and strength flowing back at me. Classic attachment. I know that. Spiritually I know how to practice detaching, letting the strings out, loving without conditions. I struggle to write about family because I resent the rightness of detaching. I want to be able to want what I want in this area and get it. I just want us all to love each other and be good people and be OK, and I know family is never that simple.
Never Simple
Family is never simple,
crucible of survival
attachment essential,
mouth to nipple, breath
synchronized,children
fed first,joy in present
hope for future. Impossible
to detach completely when
they are grown, to give
them back to the universe,
to release judgement of
my essence, my life, my soul
dependent on their choices.
Family is never simple.
September 2010
Autumn brings harvest
not only sobering fall
of bright dead leaves.
Next year's rich harvest
depends on leaf energy
released by flaming death.
Autumn sings in minor key.
Autumn rhythms tell truth.
Life depends on death
October 2010
Sun deserts, shadow deepens before supper.
Acorns, feathers, pecans, fall from violet sky
Disquiet rides with waxing gibbous moon.
Mars hangs heavy, red over dry creek bed.
Frogs have gone from pond, fireflies from field.
Sleeping grandson in stroller, Sheltie on leash,
Barred owl in oak, heart in chest cry warning.
Death, life, intuition, hope, truth, illusion, fear
blow in cold from north. Reality flickers when
autumn falls. Bright spring morning lies far behind,
far ahead. Stormy autumn evening, I know nothing
for sure, meet my demons, dance with my dead.
November 2010
At 54, you graduated, new teacher
second career, masters' degree, rightful
use of your gifts, shared dream,
chance for me to help you help kids.
I loved to make name tags
each August, learn names for
each new class, mentor sad girls,
teach fourth graders story telling.
You were a teacher and I was
your wife. We crafted our own
informal Peace Corps volunteerism.
Dream fed our need to help.
It's all over now. You want out of
the classroom after seven years,
some sweetness, too many shut minds,
Frustration that your gifts ring hollow.
The door is locked No good to bang
it with my fists. I lean against shut door
to your classroom, smell chalk dust,catch
breath. Check out the hall for new dreams.
December 2010
Shorter days follow
longer nights. Darkness
chills every hollow.
Still hope whispers
there is light enough.
Victoria Hendricks
poems compiled December 31, 2010
Sobering month.
Pulmonary embolism
we mistook for asthma,
barely treated in time.
You could have died.
I could now mourn,
close my first widow year.
Instead, we plan road trip
through Civil Rights sites,
update our bird lists,
wake in each others' arms.
Each day I remember January
and give you an extra kiss.
February 2010
Last winter's babies
turn one, chase in park
on strong little legs, laugh.
Scruffy Duffy dog wags
wiggly into family hearts,
funny, furry. Still I worry
if family has strength, hope
reserve, forgiveness to thrive
as winter warms into spring.
March 2010
Redbuds bloom.
I hold on,
hope against hope,
for new energy
to face old problems.
I hold on,
deny inevitable force
of winds of change.
April 2010
Your son naps beneath mural of Grove of The Patriarchs,
on hot Texas afternoon, sweaty sleepy, post park,
You nurse him on his own big bed, kiss damp curls,.
in the room that was yours until you made it his,
the room I decorated with rainbows for you
before you were born, the room from which I rescued
you at three from raging midnight flames, the room
whose furniture you rearranged so many teen age nights,
the room in which "You are My Sunshine".still echoes.
in the voice of your father, dead before memories settled.
You left at seventeen, started college early, found love,
made a home, made art, longed for babies, cried, laughed,
built strong marriage, took your husband to your sanctuary,
of cool misty air, soft filtered light, life rising from life.
Grove of the Patriarchs on slopes of Mt. Ranier,
took off your shoes and lay, silent, vulnerable, still
within ancient circle of holy trees, barren among
nurse logs, You lost a daughter, gave birth to a son,
brought him home to your grove within his own room.
Your son naps beneath mural of Grove of Patriarchs.
May 2010
anxiety rises
heart races
hands shake
no monster threatens
no deadline looms
no illness dooms
nothing external
justifies fear
anxiety rises
on her own terms
monster enough
June 2010
One foot in front of the other,
when best efforts fail.
One foot in front of the other.
when love fails to heal,
one foot in front of the other.,
when prayers ring empty,
one foot in front of the other.
when protection fails,
one foot in front of the other,
when fear clouds reason,
one foot in front of the other,
no matter what demons,
one foot in front of the other.
July 2010
I recognise the hollows. I did it too,
managed impression, with both of my parents,
let them believe I cared about getting the PhD,
scrubbed the baseboards before visits, practiced
the order of introductions, even took down the
yard sign for candidates and causes they despised.
I tried so hard to be a different kind of mother,
one you could tell, show anything, everything.
Effort does not always pay off. I keep trying.
August 2010
I struggle to write about family. Too complex, close to the bone, mixed. Did I raise a good family? Did I do my best? Does that even matter? What will happen to my daughters, their children? What choices will they make, what impact? how much of that is my responsibility and how much can I still change? Family is so vital, so intense, so mixed. I need it so much - need my daughters to be strong and ethical and good - so I can know I succeeded and so I can feel their love and strength flowing back at me. Classic attachment. I know that. Spiritually I know how to practice detaching, letting the strings out, loving without conditions. I struggle to write about family because I resent the rightness of detaching. I want to be able to want what I want in this area and get it. I just want us all to love each other and be good people and be OK, and I know family is never that simple.
Never Simple
Family is never simple,
crucible of survival
attachment essential,
mouth to nipple, breath
synchronized,children
fed first,joy in present
hope for future. Impossible
to detach completely when
they are grown, to give
them back to the universe,
to release judgement of
my essence, my life, my soul
dependent on their choices.
Family is never simple.
September 2010
Autumn brings harvest
not only sobering fall
of bright dead leaves.
Next year's rich harvest
depends on leaf energy
released by flaming death.
Autumn sings in minor key.
Autumn rhythms tell truth.
Life depends on death
October 2010
Sun deserts, shadow deepens before supper.
Acorns, feathers, pecans, fall from violet sky
Disquiet rides with waxing gibbous moon.
Mars hangs heavy, red over dry creek bed.
Frogs have gone from pond, fireflies from field.
Sleeping grandson in stroller, Sheltie on leash,
Barred owl in oak, heart in chest cry warning.
Death, life, intuition, hope, truth, illusion, fear
blow in cold from north. Reality flickers when
autumn falls. Bright spring morning lies far behind,
far ahead. Stormy autumn evening, I know nothing
for sure, meet my demons, dance with my dead.
November 2010
At 54, you graduated, new teacher
second career, masters' degree, rightful
use of your gifts, shared dream,
chance for me to help you help kids.
I loved to make name tags
each August, learn names for
each new class, mentor sad girls,
teach fourth graders story telling.
You were a teacher and I was
your wife. We crafted our own
informal Peace Corps volunteerism.
Dream fed our need to help.
It's all over now. You want out of
the classroom after seven years,
some sweetness, too many shut minds,
Frustration that your gifts ring hollow.
The door is locked No good to bang
it with my fists. I lean against shut door
to your classroom, smell chalk dust,catch
breath. Check out the hall for new dreams.
December 2010
Shorter days follow
longer nights. Darkness
chills every hollow.
Still hope whispers
there is light enough.
Victoria Hendricks
poems compiled December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Robert's Wednesday Prompt - Last Chance Poem
No Last Chance
Bad news is this side
of death, there is no
last chance to screw up,
speak cruel words, forget
to listen, hurt an innocent.
No last chance for ego.
Good news is, this side
of death, there is no
last chance to change
directions, make amends,
atone, forgive, create.
No last chance for love.
Victoria Hendricks
December 29, 2010
Bad news is this side
of death, there is no
last chance to screw up,
speak cruel words, forget
to listen, hurt an innocent.
No last chance for ego.
Good news is, this side
of death, there is no
last chance to change
directions, make amends,
atone, forgive, create.
No last chance for love.
Victoria Hendricks
December 29, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
There Came A Day
There came a day
I stood barefoot
in friend's kitchen
filled out insurance
papers with hands
scraped from fire escape.
She sympathized. I laughed.
This is not real trouble.
We only lost stuff. My family
is alive, safe, together.
There came a day
I knew you would die
and I would live, for
all my shouting to
the contrary, could live,
love, thrive again.
Worst happened, can again.
real trouble. What matters
is what I do about it.
Life force comes back.
There came a day
I understood my best
still left scars on daughters,
husband. Even when I
tried and cared I have done harm.
Enough has to be enough.
Real is better than perfect
Love is stronger than ego.
Victoria Hendricks
December 17, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Robert's Wednesday Prompt -about a group
Survivors
Looking back over their shoulders,
for shadows in the wood, hiding
scars, scanning horizon for snipers,
Survivors counting days, finding
patterns, deciphering signals,
whispering secrets, silencing
nightmares, pulling weeds,
not planting seeds, hiding tears,
fearing yesterday, tomorrow,
unsure if thriving is possible.
Victoria Hendricks
December 8, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
February 2010, month prompt
February 2010
Last winter's babies
turn one, chase in park
on strong little legs, laugh.
Scruffy Duffy dog wags
wiggly into family hearts,
funny, furry. Still I worry
if family has strength, hope
reserve, forgiveness to thrive
as winter warms into spring.
Victoria Hendricks
December 7, 2010
Last winter's babies
turn one, chase in park
on strong little legs, laugh.
Scruffy Duffy dog wags
wiggly into family hearts,
funny, furry. Still I worry
if family has strength, hope
reserve, forgiveness to thrive
as winter warms into spring.
Victoria Hendricks
December 7, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
January 2010 - response to poem for each month post
Sobering month.
Pulmonary embolism
we mistook for asthma,
barely treated in time.
You could have died.
I could now mourn,
close my first widow year.
Instead, we plan road trip
through Civil Rights sites,
update our bird lists,
wake in each others' arms.
Each day I remember January
and give you an extra kiss.
Victoria Hendricks
December 3, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
A Weird Poem (Poets United Prompt)
Unhooked
No connection between silver
and gold - all things that shine
are not the same - all birds
sing distinct songs. Sapphire
is not ruby nor emerald a tree.
You are only you and never me.
Victoria Hendricks
December 2, 2010
No connection between silver
and gold - all things that shine
are not the same - all birds
sing distinct songs. Sapphire
is not ruby nor emerald a tree.
You are only you and never me.
Victoria Hendricks
December 2, 2010
Enough (Big Tent Prompt)
Winter Hope
Shorter days follow
longer nights. Darkness
chills every hollow.
Still hope whispers
there is light enough.
Victoria Hendricks
December 2, 2002
Shorter days follow
longer nights. Darkness
chills every hollow.
Still hope whispers
there is light enough.
Victoria Hendricks
December 2, 2002
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