In the darkest dark
Seeds germinate
Take root, break apart
Push determinately
Through the night
Dark thoughts cannot remain
Concealed forever
But come to light, burst in birth
When they come in contact
With the morning bright
Which waits to greet all
Who try to grow, to test their worth
Just for spite
Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really…How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.”
―
Almost through another week. The snow falls. We struggle to find our smiles as we slide along slippery streets, bundled against the frigid northern breezes. It is dark and restless now. I stare into the dark night sky. No stars, just a cloud blanket shaken by an unseen hand, showering snowflakes. A lone figure stalks along with his dog. I never envy anyone walking a pet in cold weather. It looks like all duty. None of the joy of a summer dawdle.
When we were a family, we trained our dog, AJ to take his own walk…along the path to his spot, around the curve and back again, always returning with that same satisfied grin. 365 days x 6 years. He was always joyous to reach home. A simple bark and the door opened and he bounced right in.
How often I have stood watching the night sky. Sleep is often elusive. I am comforted that I am not alone. I have a simple faith. God is there. Walking with me. 365 days X 65 years and counting. ❤️ I’m not in any hurry to move on yet, but I’m sure about where I want to go. I’ll be happy to reach home.
We all stand
beneath the same sky
and sigh
for things that are
unrevealed, denied
clouded in mystery
shrouded through history
until that great day
when all will
weep for we
have been set free
from our collective misery
For we all stand
beneath the same sky.
I am stuck in concrete walls/ nothing natural / I press the remote button / nature sounds emanate / from the lonely TV / stretched out on the wall.
Crickets, bird songs, cicadas trill / basking in the warm summer sun /not real / but the memories of real / somehow soothe my soul.
The sonorous splash of waves / that beat upon the shore / the screech of hungry gulls / intersperse the musical crescendos / seed heads of wind tossed crabgrass jiggle / the surfer intently gliding /all crashing down /to silence.
My heart aches / for the generations to come / who will have no real memory / and are forever stuck /beating against concrete walls.
I’ve found true joy comes from serving others. If you are feeling blue, turn on your servants heart and it will bless you. Unknown.
I’ve been feeling blue. Life hasn’t followed the pattern I expected. I’ve agonized over who’s to blame and have no concrete answer.
I do know I feel too much. Truly, these last couple of years have been arduous. Words are spoken or not. Decisions get made or not. I’ve felt that the world is an unkind and unsafe place for the most part. I’ve found myself asking “If you can’t trust your tribe who can you trust?” Where is the loyalty, the trust? Everybody scurries for cover when you ask the hard questions.
I can’t fix everything. There, I’ve said it out loud. Actually a lot of things aren’t fixable in this world. More stuff is made to be disposable. Even the toaster eventually quits toasting. But you don’t feel the same pain throwing the toaster in the trash as when someone you love trashes you.
The pain is real. But reading the above quote this morning I was reminded that the world is full of other people who feel blue and if I look beyond myself they show up. Every day. People who appreciate your words of advice. People longing for words of hope. A hug. A coffee. I may never have the answers I crave in this world, but I can concentrate on how I respond to the sadness my heart feels every day. I choose joy in service. It’s what I do. I do it because I want to. I do it because it gives me joy. It eases the burden.
I’ve turned on my servant’s heart and I don’t want to shut it off. ❤️
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