I am wrapping myself up
In the ends of the year
Quietly, with slow movements
The kind that shapes
The way we think
Letting go so gently
For all has been spoken
I walk the galleries
The galaxies of memories
Where poet’s words come from
Quietly, my old year, that shrivelled old senior
Falls asleep amidst the fireworks
That riotously run their course
Among the shooting stars
O shining.
*Burst of celestial fireworks NASA
(An ode to my sister Joyce. Gone but not forgotten. April was her birthday month)
Remember daisy chains?
We wove them nimbly
In fragile wreaths
Hung about our necks
Wilted in the summer sun
Dancing with us in the meadows
To be cast to ocean breezes
Tuned in to each other’s breath
Pledging to never forget us
As they floated forever away.
When words get stuck
and I have no lips
to You I’ll come
I’ll tell You
that something is missing
In me
You’ll tell me
That even if I shut the door
on your foot
I am to remember
that when I take you for granted
You will still be there
standing
patient
but in silence
a waiting that stretches
into eternity
empty
Until I remember
The tomb.
#GodThoughts (Beyond Words)
art:by Guillermo Wright
Art:Pinterest
#GodThoughts (Beyond Words)
My days seem to speed by. I guiltily carve out some writing time this evening. Actually it’s all been a bit wispy snowy and foggy lately. As the denseness evaporates, the trees have acquired a white frosty attire that makes me think that Christmas is just around the corner again…lol. I am a busy property manager, and found myself out and about with my husband Ken, (my maintenance manager) earlier than usual, surveying my “Kingdom” as I jokingly tell my staff. Snow blankets everything.
It actually wasn’t that cold. Walking along, hearing the crunch of my boots in the morning air was a comforting sound. I was reminded of the words of Maya Angelou, “Still, like air I rise”, as we strolled along catching a glimpse of our site bunny sitting as still as a statue against the fence begging us to ignore him. We eyed him back, looking to see if there is any change in the colour of his fur which indicates the soon arrival of spring. You don’t need a groundhog when you have a site bunny. 😁. How quickly that would bring a smile to Ken’s face as he “strongly dislikes” snow and cold. Perhaps soon he will be rewarded. The new month of February is coming…Praise God. The groundhog awaits !😬 Here is an Elfjie ❤️ Shaped like a tree. Go well today friends. It’s all about the praises.
Trees
dressed finely
Celebrate their Creator
Every day they whisper
Praises
Vcl©️
Haha ok. I’m a lousy listener. My mom (there she is again, sorry mom) told me once that I was vaccinated with a phonograph needle when I was a child. I think I was the only one in kindergarten that was rapped across the knuckles by my teacher with the pointer and told to “sit down and shut up.” Less social souls would have curled up in a ball sucking their thumbs, not me. I always have a word in due and not so due season lol.
It’s hard to explain, because I get accused of not listening enough. Let me tell you a secret. I hear it all. the important stuff. Ok ok…perhaps my husband Kenneth would argue at this point but ask me…his favorite colour…RED, How he likes his toast. Charcoal…almost. See?
I love words, and conversation. I guess I learned it from my Father who loved a great debate and like myself, loved to read and be informed and discuss, discuss, discuss. I feel strongly about things. I take it to heart. It usually isn’t about who is right. Its the FUN of the conversation. and when people give me their words I fill up with answers. Everyone wants to tell you THEIR story. Rarely do they ask to hear yours.
“The world had a way of speaking to you if you let it; the trick was learning to hear.”
― Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors
The Bible , a book I read often as a child and adult says something I think is very profound.
“Can two people walk together unless they be agreed.”
That means listening to the whole story. And agreeing to remain friends. Sometimes it means to agree to differ.
And that’s the word. Ciao friends, thanks for listening.
Val
photo : Ondrej Pakan
I started real work as I call it when I was 15 years old. I went away to a church run private school and paid part of my tuition by working part time in a book bindery. My classes started at 730 am till noon then I worked the afternoon 1 until 4 . Oh yes…and all day Sunday. I worked as a cover layer ..rebinding old and putting new books together. Covers were cut and glue (old horse glue) was melted in a machine that was plastered on the covers and another machine was used to fold and trim the corners and edges. I was so efficient at my job that I was asked to make the year books. It was a huge task. Oh and all the work was done standing btw. And the hot glue smell? …..phew , especially if you forgot and it started to burn!
Those years cemented a lifelong love affair with books because an added bonus to my job was being able to read the books that I was working on during my lunch breaks. Books of poetry, books about the world, history books, books of maps, and magic…… all kinds of books.
I have also noticed through the years that whatever work I have done involves a lot of reading…❤️.
There is a song that I heard as a child that goes “I’ll work till Jesus comes” and I joke that I took those words literally.
If there is a heaven…(and I believe there is) …this quote says it all… book paradise.
“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.”
― Jorge Luis Borges
photo:Pixart
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