Tag: God
Burnt toast dreams~ 🍞
Sometimes life is filled
With the acrid smell of burnt toast dreams
Unpalatable to most
Yet occasionally there is one
Who will take a knife
Scraping away the blackened ugliness
Salvaging that bit of goodness that
Others miss.
Released ~ free verse it is.
Released Â
I languished in a sea of untamed thoughts
I am powerless to reign
the tempest within
Some say that there are no new stars
But I have never been this way before
Thus my story keens
As an infant born in the bowels of a boat
I seek stormy release
Fearful of the deep
As the word winds sweep
My words land disheveled
In a heap, released safely to shore
Vulnerable but with relief.
Picture credit: Horacio Cardozo
Butterflies 🤩
Well July is the month of new birth and lovely summer lollygagging.
It is also the season of butterflies.
One of the disasters of growing old in the city is the lack of natural life. When I was young I had the gift of field and brook, beavers building dams, lovely lily of the valley, and Canterbury snow bells. Did I mention Bleeding Hearts and the rare Lynx sitting in the back yard licking its paws at dawn? Then there was the moose that ran past the window on its way to the river….but I digress.
Butterflies~I must confess, fill me with awe. I had the joy of visiting the Butterfly House in Victoria BC awhile back. It was a lovely experience, all stages of butterfly life in one spot.
I remember well the butterflies of my childhood, as they danced and flitted, fluttered and kissed the flowers as they swayed in the sunshine. I lay in the un-mowed grasses wishing one would land on my nose…and if it did I promised myself I would lay so still, with no breath at all…to see if the butterfly would smile back at me or kiss the tip before it moved on.
So July for me, is still the season of butterflies. We have planted the flowers and of course I lay in the tall grasses. But now my grandchildren worry that I need help getting up. I want them to experience the wonder, the ecstasy, the fluttering of Butterflies. I want to tell them and you dear reader that we are all butterflies.
“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.”
~Richard Bach
A Christmas Miracle December 2013
To prepare, I find myself as usual,
Checking my list,
 Wishing for more time at my disposal
Â
I spent it frivolously, obviously,
Because I feel unready for the gathering
 of family and friends,
Presents not purchased, wrapped.
The faux turkey not baked, no snacks!
Â
I suffer all the angst around me,
People drowning in their distress.
They have done the same.
Rushing to and fro, they seek a savior.
I recount 60 Christmas’s past in my favor.
Â
 How perfectly I remember them as
Ready or not, they warmed my heart.
Troubles faded in the aura of goodwill
And cries of “good enough!” filled the air
Peace, Peace, Peace on Earth, we were there.
Â
Â
Â
Related articles
- New Meaning for “Merry Christmas” (nancyaruegg.com)
- Season of the Small (glimpseintheglass.wordpress.com)
- Hoping for CHRISTmas (wowpc.wordpress.com)
- Christmas – The Pitfalls of Festive Merriment (blasermills.co.uk)