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Beneath the Wings. . . . .
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Throw A Kiss To The Stars. . .
Younger sisters should play by the rules and allow the elder to leave first. But my sister stayed as long as she was able and left us this week abruptly. This poem is personal in that love abounds. I whispered it in reading again with great love in our coming together as adults…
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The Sages Kick Start. . .
I keep on hand stenographer tablets to jot down notes I think important in rereading the journal entries. I came across this poem thoughts. I do not know when I wrote it nor what entry prompted it. I may have been deeply focused in thought with someone. I remember the first line glimpse I…
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The Invited Guest. . . .
with hammer and saw and wood and file. . . . Many of us when…
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Me and Mother Nature Have a Something Going On. .
(please keep in mind my understanding that all time is simultaneous . ) In the April 10th 1992 journal entry I wrote of a prior conversation our second son David and I had before he left our Earth, (a philosophy major first before becoming a lawyer) about the benign nature of the Universe, being neither…
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To Break The Waves, enough it is. . . .
(sometimes in the midst of memories, I need to be reminded of what mattered most. And if I need this, perhaps a reader does also. The memory is now fresh for me. I appreciate the chance for reprinting a favorite one.) After having been told a zillion times that no one would want my head, …
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The Spirit Within Speaks. . .
In reviewing this poem, I was surprised to see the journal entry so I read it anew. And the last paragraph of the two pages typed was the lament that I had a head with so much to say I felt I was going to die. And I wrote the words of St. Paul, ‘it…
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Often the Larger Picture is Universal Life. . enhanced. . .
Jon Meacham, historian, told the story of when President Reagan was in the hospital after being shot he was wiping up some water in the bathroom when a surprised visiting President Bush asked him what he was doing. I spilled water and I didn’t want the nurse to get blamed for it he said. These…
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Our Light That Shines. . . .
Sometimes we find when we are not on good terms with ourselves, life is not sympathetic to how we are feeling. Yet we fulfill what is demanded and later are grateful that someone stands beside us when we are in need. We hope that whatever we offered is regarded not with impatience we might have…
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Ordinary, but real. . . . .
Again, in that conference time when all is quiet, you cannot go back to not knowing, once having attained what it is you know. Quantum, sumus, scimus. You are what you know. And what you know is yours forever. The talents, the Master spoke of, no one understood to teach. What moth and rust…