Since I cannot come to church today
I’ll try to find you as I pray.
I’ll see you, my God,
in humble little places–
bejewelled flowers and children’s faces,
things of beauty, gentle graces.
I wish I knew how to grow
with the single-minded purpose of flowers.
Up, up and ever increasing in beauty,
focused on the source of light and
undistracted by the tangle and clutter
of weeds and other plants nearby.
Neither thorns nor thistles
causing them to pause in self-doubt,
or think their mission would be better
if they were holding up
the heavy golden head of some other stem–
richness enough to be oneself.
The bulbs we planted last year for Josephine’s birthday are bravely peeking up their tiny heads to kiss the spring sunshine!
I continue to be enchanted by the beauty of fall..which this year has had a slow mellow warmth, like the flickering of a cosy fire, flames all crimson and gold.
My kids, who had been peacefully playing inside, were very happy to discover where Mummy had snuck off to for a few quiet moments of photography! Pretty fun that even though I’m with them all the time, after 3 minutes away, I get greeted like a rock star! 😉
after a morning of spelling
and writing practice
I take a moment’s break by myself
to sit on our garden bench in the sun
a tiny homeschool hiatus
to sit quietly enough to hear
the birds chirping and twittering
over the background hum
of city busses and summery lawnmowers
on this warm October morning
sun is supposed to be good
for this third trimester liver thing
that has crept up on me again
so I expose my round belly
to glow like strange moon
blue veins faintly showing
in the bright sun
a small alien planet
with the occasional surface ripple
as the life within stretches and grows
just x-filish enough
to make me grin
I go outside for a walk in the dark garden,
only two bare feet to hold up my heavy heart,
and after the warmth of the concrete driveway
surrender to the melancholic cool of the evening grass.
In the stillness of dusk
amid the silent flowers,
the sadness for my lost little love
wraps me about like a cloak of starlight
to capture this poem,
preserve this tear like a crystal jewel
and offer it to you, Jo,
the one whom I can give nothing
but the pangs of love.