Thursday, October 25, 2012

Through Owl Eyes

Death is delusion,
owl hoots all fall.
Death is illusion
All we loved remain
real as heart beat,
unseeable, unseen

Faith Alone

Muggy night clings
heavy as despair.

Can't  even imagine
cooling kiss of breeze.

Change drops no hints.
Hope flashes no sign.

But I know radar shows
norther blowing in fierce .

Just ten minutes utill chimes 
in oak sing in frst north wind.

Reality?

Mama whispers worry to Daddy
over coffee in immaculate kitchen.
She just doesn't face reality.
Confused, I contemplate scarlet
pear leaf just the size of my palm.
What could be more real than this? 

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Harvest Cycle

Every season has it's harvest.

First kiss, spring flowers,
fresh green,  new dreams.

Kids running in the sprinkler
Summer fruits,, indigo evenings

Family cooking thanksgiving feast,
ruby leaves, warmth against chill.

Forgiveness, satisfaction, stories
by the fire, winter come full circle.

Every season has its harvest.


Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Transition

Between contractions,
Hospital bag packed
I checked  LaMaze list.
Tennis balls for back labor,
hard candy, God's eye for focus,
phone numbers, birth announcements.

Careful, I eased full body to floor,
 opened child birth book last time,
 read one page. Most intense stage
of labor is transition. When you think
you can't stand any more,  you likely
will  kiss you baby in twenty minutes

Next morning, I labored, nauseus,
screamed  I can't stand this anymore.
Out of nowhere, question, surfaced.
Am I in transition?Affirmative answer.
 I can do anything for twenty minutes.
Held our new daughter to breast.

When you lay dying, exhausted,
 I helped you move up in the bed.
You screamed in pain,  I wept.
Familiar words seared my brain.
I can't stand this anymore.
And I remembered transition.

The worst came before the peace,
and in the end you were not afraid.
In the end you opened your eyes
and saw me smile oe last time,
and your breathig stopped and I
held you pain free, finally again.   










Rejection

Aging parents label
conjures Depends,
Ensure, walkers,
What are we going
to do about Mama?

Aging parents label
conjures dependency,
annoyance, obligation,
parents as objuet not
subject of sentence.

Aging parents label
sounds pathetic, topic
for bad jokes,, put upon
sighs. worried phone calls
between tired siblings.

Sometimes age steals
competence, not often,
Person trumps age.
I' strongly reject
Agiing parents label.
.

Owl Moon

Waxing Crescent

Slim crescent rises sets,
red as autumn maples.
Death's messenger glows
bright as spring green birth.

Half

Muggy night, half past
fire fly summer. Oak leaves
gray in place, tired echoes
of spring's green hope.
Girl and I stand barefoot
in grass still green,  gasp
in one voice at brilliance of
silver light from half moon.
She wonders aloud how
bright it will shine when full.
Awed, I wonder,  what truths
will shine out under full owl moon.

Waxing Gibbous

Lopsided lightbulb,
No inspiration balloon.
Message, meaning elude.
Hope shimmers askew.


Full Owl Moon
Full owl moon peppers lawn
with puddles bright as white.
Puddles shift into shadow.
Lawn is sea of mystery,
not quite solid ground.

Truth is never simple.
Shadows shift, in, out.
Puddles of bright white
wash us in one llight.
Life is sea of mystery.

Waning Gibbous

Let my awareness remain
even as less light glows.
Let me remember mystery.
Let me hold the truth .
There is only so much
that I can ever know.