Poems and a Story
to Encourage and Overcome
"Those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles."
Isaiah 40:31
Poems written by Steven Du Pre from Northern California (originally from Colorado)
Contents
Aspen Song
Wonder
Night Rain Rockin' Party Time
Singing Waters and Delectable Delights
Why?
Statue of Liberty Sign Waver
Jubilation at Jenner by the Sea
Blast of Blue through Triumphant Oak Trees
Meandering by the Brook in the First Day of April
Spring Gift
After Spring RainIn Praise of Dark Chocolate
Wild Things in the STARBUCKS Sign
One Jazzy Spring Morning
10 Tanka ("short song" in Japanese) Poems
Why I Gave House Finch a New Name
Stopping by the Food Co-op One Starry Night
Joy Overflowing
The Breaking
They will not be denied
Mockingbird, Our Premier Party Animal
Shining Pathway
Mockingbird Painting the Night Sky
Watching the Plum Tree in Winter
New Day in the Mohave
Can I Get an Amen? Yeah!
On My Way to that Place of Sweet Release
Priceless
How about You?
Exploring the Oaktree Top to Bottom
Kokanee Salmon
Hummingbird Dancing in the Dawn
Hummingbird Love
Tableau: In-Line Skaters Delivering Fliers Door-to-Door
Ode to Strawberries
Slow Down and Listen to the Music
Cinnamon Celebration
Concert of Laughter
Let's Dance!
Psalm of Thanksgiving for the Family of God
Psalm to God Who Brings Light into Darkness
Haiku Poems
The Cracked Pot: A Story from India (author unknown)
Aspen Song
(late summer, Colorado Rockies)
ever listen to the rustling edge
of a sudden rainstorm
through aspen trees?
how they bend and turn,
the wind strumming
a bracing new song of grace
when suddenly, come cries of camaraderie---
flocks of Snow Geese dawn skyways arcing into their dreams Why? Statue of Liberty Sign Waver Jubilation at Jenner by the Sea
Blue Jay, that raucous robber extraordinaire,
bright high-spirited buoyant songs the brook shares from its treasury
(with one line from a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins)
the oak and alder trees near the creek is you In Praise of Dark Chocolate
Wild Things in the STARBUCKS Sign One Jazzy Spring Morning 10 Tanka Poems 8 Tanka Poems Tanka is a Japanese short poetic form (meaning "short song" in English) that has existed since earliest recorded Japanese literature. Tanka has been considered the most important form and the oldest style of Japanese poetry. It dates back to the 1300s.
This verse consists of 5 unrhymed lines of 5, 7, 5, 7, 7 syllables whose intent is to focus the reader's attention on a single event, or image and the mood that is associated with it. Tanka for the Great I AM Spring Hiking Tanka Tanka for Matcha Green Tea Tanka for Matcha Green Tea #2 Tanka for flutist Cathie Apple Tanka for Yasuko Tanka for Hummingbird Tanka for flautist Cathie Apple Tanka for June Lake Tanka for Wakame Salad Why I Gave House Finch a New Name Stopping by the Food Co-op One Starry Night The
Breaking Mockingbird,
Our Premier Party Animal Shining Pathway Mockingbird Painting the Night Sky Watching
the Plum Tree in Winter stark
as branches of winter trees, ------let
us rejoice in this new life New Day in the Mojave
two pinto horses ready for adventure,
is there a better way
to break into
this breathtaking new day? Can I Get an Amen? Yeah! On My Way to that Place of Sweet Release
Priceless
(for all the young people sold worldwide in the exploding sex slave business)
in our own backyard, priceless children.
And this sex slavery is growing exponentially,
Now let’s get down into our own north California streets: -
On my way home tonight, I’ll be driving by a dark section on Howe Avenue
Here’s breaking news of the extent of the slavery
But we’re getting equipped in our minds and spirits to break down this darkness,
No more more walking or driving past unaware,
How about you?
(Pacific Crest Trail in early August)
Watching the Nuthatch
foraging headfirst down the oak,
exploring secret caverns, Kokanee
Salmon (Kokanee–“red
fish” (Okanagan); Tahoe–“big water, lake of the
sky” (Washoe) are we
searching with clear there is
rebirth, Hummingbird
Dancing in the Dawn
(for Ron Finley, who transformed his property in South East Los Angeles from a place where people threw their trash to a gardening oasis with 10 banana trees & 4 apple trees, sunflowers, kale and much more! Ron asks churches to donate their property so people can have fresh produce. Dedicated to Ron because he says he "gets kissed by hummingbirds every day in my garden")
Hummingbird_love
Tableau:
In-Line Skaters Delivering Fliers Door-to-Door like a
like a gust of wind streaming Concert of Laughter step with me under the forest canopy,
Let's Dance!!
Ode to
Strawberries Slow Down and Listen to the Music Cinnamon Celebration Psalm of Thanksgiving
for the Family of God Psalm
to God Who brings light into darkness (Timisoara,
Romania--December 15, 1989 --"Here began the revolution that
felled a dictator." one pastor refuses to bow
down, when the secret police
come to take Pastor Laszlo Tokes, Praise the God Who stands alongside
those who stand against evildoers Irina heard
her teachers say repeatedly, Understood
the good news of God reading Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky; words of hope surmounting
years of hard labor on the Gulag, Praise be to
God Whose hand moves through the prayers of His people (Calcutta,
India---Mother Teresa started opening homes for the dying
destitute in 1952) called by God
to the poorest, dying in the streets, mornings
begun in communion with her Lord, her prayer:
"Stay with us, and then we shall begin Praise be to
Jesus Who bends down to care for the abandoned (Kampala,
Uganda--Jackson Senyonga, prayer warrior---abandoned by parents,
received by God) decades of
terror and devastation but a remnant
of believers call out to God in desperation, secret
prayers birthing a land that seeks wisdom; Praise be to
the Holy Spirit Who can turn nations back to the one, true God HAIKU
POEMS Haiku (meaning "light verse" in English)
is a short 3-line poem originating from Japan which seeks to
record the essence of a moment keenly perceived, oftentimes in
which Nature is linked to human nature. The poems consist of 3 unrhymed lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables. Haiku
for my Mother Football
Haiku Wide
Receiver Halfback Last-Minute
Field Goal The
Cracked Pot: A Story from India A water
bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a
pole, which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a
crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always
delivered a full portion of water, at the end of the long walk
from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived
only half full. Disclaimer: The
material contained on this web site is a compilation of materials
sent to me over the past years without any annotation
of restrictions except as noted. To the best of my
knowledge there are no other restrictions on the use of this
copyright or trademark rights to these items other than giving
the credit as listed. . If further claim exists, please
contact me so proper credit can be given or the item
removed. They are intended solely for the overall theme of
this website.
Wonder
searching for your nesting place
and there on an island in the oak tree's wide arms
surrounded by bursting river currents,
your large gathering of twigs and sticks
now you stalk fish in the shallows
long yellow bill flashing
while Mallard ducks calmly flow by through the marshes
as I await that moment,
and then---
you, white wonder,
unfurl the splendor of your bright wings
as you sweep forward over the waves,
for an instant,
as you take up your shining tambourines
you rise into the rapturous dance
at the joyous dawn of creation
Night Rain Rockin' Party Times
through my kitchen window,
I see the overflowing creek
spreading out into a wide river of joy---
time for the nightwalk under heavy rainclouds
roaming through extraordinary trees
to celebrate this break from drought,
high above the clouds
on their vivacious virtuoso migration,
searching now for an evening stopover,
a place to strut their stuff,
this classy crew dressed in their convivial
white-with-black-wingtip finery,
they take their festivities to the marshland,
savor a super-green smoothie
and toast the watery winter night.
I give thanks for these triumphant intrepid pilgrims,
happy they are now warm floating serenely
in their feathery homes,
Singing Waters and Delectable Delights
(along the Bear River in September)
downstream fishermen are catching rainbow trout
and I admit they can be mighty tasty.
But right now, I’ve got blackberries on my mind,
the dark juices covering my hands and all over my clothes,
as I scrabble through sharp brambles, scraping my arms---
and I’m relishing every moment---
you see, I’m all lit up by the tempo
of these refreshing white-water rapids
as they play their snappy rambunctious tunes,
their dazzling jazzy dance over the rocks
while I pick blackberries.
This bear paw of my hand reaches in
for the delectable dark-honey-wine of September
to toast the new day with gusto and pizzazz!
Every once in a while I’ll sing praise
for the luscious heavenly gift on my tongue,
the rushing, effervescent river, and the strength
to ramble this incredible planet that we inhabit.
All this exciting water music and blackberry blast
sure does put some zesty salsa zip in my step!
They asked me why I kept right on wearing my costume
for several days before and after the Fall Fun Fest
Reason Number 1: when I’m rollicking around town in this outfit,
I get jolted by the yelping, jumping up and down children,
and the delightfully hilarious looks on their faces,
especially when I rush up and say, “Ironman to the rescue!”
So much glee sends me laughing right through the amazing new day!
And after all that big-time livin’ it to the max like a little kid,
in the evening, I jump into the car to go up into high mountains,
to watch the sunset firing up the wide sky
and later I get stoked by the unending stream of stars, especially on a moonless night.
You see, sometimes it’s good to let it go for a little while
that is, from those slammin’ YouTube song videos and all that email and texting,
you know, that skyrocketing through cyberspace.
Now don’t get me wrong---
I’m oh so happy to be here at a time when I can explore and learn so much surfing the Net,
watching hilarious videos and sharing jokes with my Facebook posse,
plus view those dramatic photos from the Hubble telescope,
Yet with all these fun activities, I still thirst for those enduring moments
when I seek out places of quiet waters, you know, where I can sorta’ refuel my soul,
a place where my spirit can find peace and the freedom of forgiveness.
Oh, and I almost forgot, Reason number 2 why I keep on wearin' my costume
is when I'm walkin'toward a couple people lookin' down at their phones,
and I say a big “hello” and they do this huge double-take,
when they see what I’m wearin'!
And then the third reason is that I get to catch the quizzical looks
from people I meet as they wonder,
“Is he really tryin’ to be Iron Man
or maybe some kind of Medieval knight like Don Quixote de la Mancha?
and that brings me to my fourth and final reason:
wearin’ this costume keeps me flowin’ in childlike wonder.
In fact, now my favorite newspaper is called California Kids!
Yeah, that’s Kids with an exclamation mark!
No, I’m not plannin’ to walk that way of darkness.
I’m movin’ toward the light! I’m gonna’ shine! Yes, I’m lit up,
and the fun times are gettin’ brighter and brighter every scintillating new day!
always bouncing and whirling at this busy place
between two large shopping centers
this dancing lady glides along the avenue
in turquoise green robe and liberation crown,
a red sash crossing her body with company name,
earbuds splash iTunes to brush away all traffic noise,
the large white sign she's waving in front of drivers,
in big shouting letters: 50% OFF---
you see, her employer is Liberty Tax,
and they’re making their pitch at this crossroads
beckoning us procrastinators with a tempting price.
Oh, and I must tell you,
I think she's blessed with vivacious brown eyes,
but I may never know
because like the majestic Statue in New York Harbor,
she fixes her gaze out over the crushing waves of taxation,
arm lifted high to proclaim freedom
for those far and wide seeking refuge
from the meddling greedy fingers of intrusive IRS oppressors.
racing from the car up into the sand dunes
now abundant with wildflowers in their passionate array,
bounding with bright joyful strides along the beach,
jumping away as the waves break into the shore,
the ocean playing their wondrous tambourines
as they surge right through you, reviving the spirit
the brisk air, the dancing clouds,
fancy flyin’ Seagull and Pelican
drinkin’ all this beauty in and gettin’ into the flow
like the river rollin’ into the sea,
kickin’ up sands to celebrate with delight
these precious gifts of river and ocean,
and then the excitement of watching
three young children frolicking
their way across the wide beach,
every acrobatic move the body can make---
backward somersaults, cartwheeling, zigzagging,
tumbling to the edge of the river, sliding down the bank
but wait! looking up the shoreline,
the coup de grace, the finishing flourish---
a young man lifts his girlfriend into the air
twirling her round as she wildly kicks her legs
and they joyously embrace each other---
the ocean air singing jubilation songs
who plunders eggs from the nests of other birds,
and loudly proclaims its territory or silently flows through the forest
looking for the opportunity to pounce on its prey.
I have wondered what good these wandering bandits bring to the table.
But then, I discovered that as they gather their supply of acorns
and bury the excess of their harvest in the soil
surrounding the forest for a future feast,
you guessed it, they oftentimes forget
where they have hidden this bountiful treasure,
and so, upon the open ground, the grand oak tree forest spreads out
into a wondrous source of food and home for hundreds of creatures—
the wide arms of Oaks serve as a spacious home for Egrets and Herons,
And Chipmunks, Whitetailed deer, Warblers & Woodpeckers love
the choice nutritious buffet of this original native California cuisine,
chock-full of insects & caterpillars to put some zip in acorn pancakes,
I guess we can say Blue Jays unknowingly give back
much more than they have taken from this forest community,
so now, sitting under the glorious branches of this magnificent Oak
I can with gusto sing praises to Blast of Blue.
And here’s a toast with a glass of Cabernet to each triumphant
new Oak tree now being born in the ever-expanding resplendent forest
and the abundant wild ones who are nourished
and embraced by the wide life-giving arms of Oak tree nation
of unforgettable dances that we have savored together.
“How ‘bout we jump right into some salsa steps---
we’ll call them brookside-goin’-Latin-ballistic bouncing waters.
Or next, let’s go down to that place where flowin’ waters
sweep gracefully like an Austrian waltz. Ain’t nuthin’ stoppin’ us.
To the brook, I say: “There never was a poem with such a singing voice as yours
as you pass elegantly under the alder trees.
Yes, how ‘bout we let these bright dawnlit waters
gush over us this dazzling new day?
And after we drink a toast to this magnificent spring morning,
we can marvel at the wide arms of those splendiferous Oak trees,
all spiffed up in their newly-born leaves,
and yuh know, I gotta share this? I found out something spectacular
about these mighty Oaks!! Did ‘ya know these wide-armed beauties
happen to be master chefs, yeah, they serve up exquisite meals for,
get this, 525 different critters:
everything from deer and squirrels chomping on acorns
to birds dining on insects and beetles snarfing down dead leaves
and caterpillars greedy for greens
until they float-off-like-a-dream into butterfly land.
Speaking of wings, it’s time now to celebrate those singers on the wing----
like the rompin’ Robins over there partaking of tasty worm sashimi,
and after that, I get to catch the soul-shakin’ songs
of White-crowned Sparrow and the Cruisin’ Crimson Finch,
wow, what a brimming-over-with-joy concert that is!
And of course my spring celebration would not be complete
without those incredible irrepressible Woodpeckers
Someone must’ve had a wondrously clever sense of humor.
I can hardly believe they hurl their heads against rock-hard tree trunks
with the force of 1000 g’s, yuh know,
g-force is the gravitational force of acceleration,
so check this out: on the Space Shuttle, maximum during launch is 3 G's
and Sprint missiles have a g-force of only 100.
So, I’ll let your imagination take it away from there on the incredible force
that Woodpeckers explode against tree-trunks.
yeah, but folks, some who say woodpeckers
somehow slowly evolved that behavior.
Let’s see, they accelerate at 1000 g-force speed
and yet we are to believe that somehow,
they went from bustin’ their brains open on the tree-trunks
to somehow not bustin’ their brains open?
Kinda’ looks like ‘alotta design goin’ on somewhere along the way.
Maybe like being created with a thick cushiony tongue band
that circles round back of their noggins so their brains stay intact and ready for more mischief.
Yeah, friends, the smartphone was left in the car
‘cuz I wanted to get right smack dab into the rapture of the breaking dawn.
Hey, I feel like a little kid again,
so I just kicked off my shoes. We can do anything we want. It’s a poem, right?
Now I’m walking with clover between my toes.
But get this, health specialists call this earthing
earth with ING at the end, and get this, as it turns out,
earthing has been found to decrease both stress and inflammation plus improve circulation.
Whatever, along the brook is where you’ll find me these spring days,
adding my songs to the chorus of bubbling-over-with-joy lyrics
I hear all around me. You see, it’s spring and love is in the air.
Daybreak by the brook has been truly luscious! Come away with me!!
I promise a scrumptious, captivating and palate-pleasing procession
of fancy AND HEALTHY appetizers designed for the most discriminating tastes.
So, bon appetit, monsieurs and madmoiselles.
finishing my appointment at Kaiser Rancho Cordova,
here I am rushing down the hallway as usual
checking off the next item on my to-do list
when suddenly I pull up short..............‘cuz I notice a young father
with a baby-carrierclose to his chest sittin' in the hallway
so I quickly take a vacant seat beside him and say:
“Can I see your baby?”
He proudly opens the covers---
and I find myself brimming over with joy
as the morning springs up with ah! bright wings.”
I ask how old she isand he, with love in his voice says, "Five days old."
and since her eyes are tight shut,
I ask her name and the color of her eyes.
He says, “Lily Lin and her eyes are dark blue”
as he quickly finds a photo on his smart phone
taken only a few moments after Lily Lin entered this world
with pieces of the placenta still clinging to her face---
midnight blue eyes,
as I GAZE
in wonder at this precious beauty.
He then quickly adds, “She’s one quarter Chinese
and the rest a mix of other cultures,
and she was voted Cutest Baby of the Month
at the Kaiser Hospital where she was born.”
We share more small talk and say our goodbyes,
and I go out with my heart SINGing and DANCing
to the beat of this bright preCIOUS new life gracing my day.
Now meandering outside near the parking lot, I linger for a while,
at each flowering almond tree, right now bountifully covered with pink blossoms,
as I marvel at this matchless treasure I have been given!!
are shining with sunlight after the rainstorm---
right now, the leaves are even glistening
with this watery gift in their hands
and they turn to offer this beauty to us,
brothers and sisters, and all we need to do is
embrace them
just for a few moments
and accept this bounty from above---
new bright leaves like joyous children
bounding into the resplendent spring day
with bouncing adventure and abandon.
Oh, and these marvelous flowers
along the rivers and over the hills of California,
they’re ready and waiting
to share this magnificent spring---
lift your eyes to gaze at these precious ones---
like a river of delights.
How about we start the day tomorrow
by stepping out to enjoy fabulous orange California Poppy,
stunning Purple Lupine, dazzling yellow Blazing Star,
or how about the lavender-blue Fiesta Flower,
and let’s not forget, Mango Tango Hummingbird Mint
for those tiny dynamos dancing through flowers of Rio Sacramento
Okay, the springtime feast is spread out in abundance,
the fragrance is refreshing,
the colors are magnifico,
our cup of gladness is full
and all we’re waiting for
My go-to after-dinner rendezvous---
that sweet symphony that sends me singin’ a new tune
in praise of this dark river of rapture
this palate-pleasing and perfect finish for my evening feast,
this carnival of flavor that sends me ‘aflyin' the night skies.
And the outside wrapper has this bold proclamation: “Make Life Sweeter”--
and I say Yes, I’m on board with this defiantly delicious delight,
as I break off one effervescent square at a time and then pause, just for a titch,
to brace myself for the coming avalanche of ecstasy,
yes, it’s Theo’s Dark Chocolate with cherries and almonds.
Yeah, a little bit uh that almond crunch paired with bright shimmering
charmin’ cherries doin’ a fancy tango dance over your tongue.
and listen, there is this jolly justification for my craving on the wrapper:
“In choosing this chocolate bar, you join us in elevating the care
of both people and planet” ---yes, this is an Organic Fair Trade product
from the Republic of Congo. Yeah, I do know there is a GOD WHO cares deeply
for each one of us, yet also for the footprint that we leave on this wondrous planet.
but before you folks get too comfy in your chocolate habit, remember this,
tuh get the big health benys from this anti-oxidant king, the package or wrapper
must clearly state that it’s at least 70% cocoa.
A side-note, my adventurous fervor for the latest greatest found me over at Trader Joe’s,
and yuh know what I discovered, people? you guessed it,
as I was rummaging around at the checkout stand, I found something
that transported me into the heavens when I tasted this incredible choco-o-late with caramel.
Oh, yeah, my tastebuds got so excited when I bit into a square,
‘cuz there was this magnificent surprise-- liquid caramel flowing like a waterfall
within each luxuriant chocolate square. I gotta’ make a YouTube video
so you folks can get tuned in to the trippy times I have
devouring these deliciously delectable and delightful luminaries in the wide starry universe---
sweeping me into a Bon appetit finale tuh this health-giving evening celebration
with the King and Queen of the block party. I promise you’ll be dancin’ and jumpin’
with joyful satisfaction at the very 1st supercalidocious bite
yesterday at the bustling shopping center
where the large letters of the STARBUCKS sign
are prominently displayed on the front of the building,
I see Sparrows bringing in twigs and dry grasses for their nest
inside the lower opening in the letter B of STARBUCKS
ever since then I’ve been giving thanks for the new day
and the treasure of wild things by placing seeds
out front near the table where I drink my morning brew
and observe these sparrows and the ever-changing clouds
painting the canvas of the sky with exciting new designs
so now I’m ready to ask our Creator and LORD what HE wants to craft in me today,
the mighty flow of His Spirit ready to paint a daily masterpiece if only we would slow down,
ask for His Presence to be like a waterfall overflowing with joy
into broken lives who hunger for someone to lift them up into the wondrous new and living way,
a place of childlike wonder at the powerful current of God's love
displayed in His Son, JESUS, Yahweh our Savior
and celebrated by that Afro-American spiritual "Deep River"
first sung by the Jubilee Singers to bring peace like a river to our souls,
and not only that, but by His Resurrection, our sure expectant hope
skyrockets like stars in the galaxies
Hey, how 'bout we let the splendor of the LORD's never-ending love
shine through us with brilliance into every dark place,
'cause yes, we have sure expectant hope our God,
the Great I Am, is awaiting us,
arms wide-open in the new heaven and new earth
blazing, bursting with His overflowing joy and love!
(for Marisela Vazquez)
sisters and brothers,
I didn’t know I would be hip-hoppin’ it
into such a jazzy spring day
when I dropped by the downtown art gallery
and met Marisela working on her oil painting at that moment,
but then, oh, let me tell you,
I'm doin' a spacewalk through the spiralling galaxies
as I gaze at the magnificent design of her painting ---
for now, let’s just call it “Jubilation Riverflow of Jazz”---
you see fun-filled musicians in New ORLeans, or is it New OrLEANS. or as they say--“Nawlins”,
people dancin’ like in a parade with trumpet and drums through hot red and orange rhythm,
moving up through purple with joyous painting of bass fiddle and guitar,
skyrocketing through turquoise-blue song notes.
It’s hard to imagine
stroking the oils on this canvas
with such creative finesse and grace---
so, I give thanks for her Maker and Marisela's heart, hands and eyes
that brought to birth such a bright bracing landscape of music,
the deep creative mind and soul to celebrate
Duke Ellington, Alice Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie
Is it any wonder I was dancin’ with delight
and in my imagination,
jumpin’ right into that painting?
my feet jivin’ to the jubilant upbeat heart-pounding tempo,
I tell you, it shakes you all up inside
and you're swingin’ your way
through the breezy afternoon
harmonizin’, improvisin’, liftin’ your heart
into the wide spacious skies
oh, hermanas y hermanos, vamos a bailar,
brothers and sisters, let’s dance,
let’s shake this place, times a’ wastin’,
let’s spring forward
into the shining new moment we’ve been given
sharing this moment
tidal waves of new love songs
to the One I call
Creator of perfect joy
shimmering with adventure
Yuba River sings
rushing whitewater rapids
stir up the pulse beat
new wildflowers at each turn
hearts surging with ecstasy
vibrant zesty sprouts
lift us through spring adventures
invigorating
prancing like deer through wildwood
light steps over rolling hills
cells of our body
greet magnificent green tea
with gleeful tastebuds
then hearts springing up to dance
arm in arm with loving friends
her flute taking flight---
snow geese cruising the wide skies
winging their way home,
hearts leaping with joyous song
through the spreading galaxies
unfolding flowers
blossom in her long black hair
her bright eyes shining
with love of her LORD Jesus
embraced by Enduring Arms
bright spinning dancers
luminescent dynamos
flowing through blossoms
swirling pulsating delight
skyrocketing daybreak star
bright wings of her flute---
snow geese cruising the wide skies
joyous songs leaping
with scintillating delight
through the spreading galaxies
light laughter and stride
like a playful-hearted child
yet having wisdom
to choose ways that please the LORD
Maker, Savior, Counselor
from tidal waters
deep green seaweed treasury
with sesame seeds
powering ocean fuel
to ride endless flowing waves
With a song that feels like a heavenly cruise down a splashing springtime river
and a racy crimson head that flares into fire in the sun, is it any wonder
why I just now sent notice to Audubon headquarters that this poet (and bird-lover)
will no longer demean this wondrous bird with such a casual name, and starting today,
I’m unveiling a more worthy brand-spankin’ new moniker that magnifies this winged beauty,
so yeah, I officially start this protest quest for a fresh good-tastin’ name by sayin’:
Hello and good mornin’ to you: Cruisin’ Crimson Cocoa-streaked Finch.
Why not this name? after all, in S.A., they have the Pompadour Cotinga
and in Philippines,it’s that reckless wordslinger--the Flame-templed Babbler.
Anyway, ain’t it good to lift this bird
we’re re-naming off the ash-heap of imagination,
and instead, we’ll make it official with this christening ceremony
to honor you & your beloved right now in front of this crowd of your admirers
and we solemnly promise to never again task anyone but a poet
with the momentous earth-shaking gravitas of naming our wondrous winged companions
sailin’ through the wide skies.
And I’m sure You people are quite aware of the cavalcade
of other casually named candidates out there, right? like the Ash-throated Flycatcher,
the Lesser Goldfinch---oh wow, what’s that sayin’, Auduboners,
howsa ‘bout we accentuate the negative? And the Western Kingbird?
What about the Western Queenbird? I kinna’ like seein’ some female stylin’--
but anyway, hip hip hooray, we’re well on our way into a bright new day
in the birdwatchin’ world---the flowin’ fancy of a poet composing soaring, wingflappin’
flights of joyous frivolity. How ‘bout we reconnoiter along the shaded avenue
and catch the soul-shakin’ rollicking-with-fun tunes of White-crowned Sparrow
which flows nicely with Finch songs that catapult me up into the sky
sippin’ my cocoa coffee delight drink.
wow, what a brimming-over-with-bouncing blessings concerto that is!!
So, here’s to you, Cruisin’ Crimson Cocoa-streaked monsieur and madmoiselle
and bon appetit, as we lift our cup of gladness to celebrate your bon vivant style,
your dashing party-all-the-time presence, and of course,
your dynamic precocious ever-stylin’ cavalier demeanor !!!
(for Pari which means “one with wings” in Persian)
I don’t know why
the air is stirred up and bursting with joy
when I speak with the young woman
ringing up my array of zesty,
toned-up, ready-to-roll taste treats,
but then, as she’s packing my grocery bag,
I see her dark festive eyes
and that her name is Pari---
the skies open
and with angels we all take up our tambourines
and go out to dance the starry night
with oh so bright wings!
Joy Overflowing
(for Harshitha at Dell Premium Support)
I’m not jivin’ yuh.
I just now discovered the joyful fasttrack
to solve pesky computer complications
that gum up my Net navigation---
yes, I gotta tell yuh, this superhighway
I’m talking about is one cool techy family
in India called “Dell Premier Support,”
so I’m sure we are about to break free
and confident voice of Harshitha,---
I quickly sense her deep base of knowledge
and yes, we step gracefully into cyberspace---
that zesty pathway toward the Promised Planet
with the nerdy name---“Restore Point,”
that magical place in the recent past
when my voice recognition and Google were going strong,
my laptop navigating around rocky outcrops,
let’s call it “hopsteppin’ it over hidden traps,”
all this performed by shrewdly steering
around hotspots in spiraling hyperspace,
while waiting, I was dreaming of sharing
the adventure of peace among sisters and brothers,
treasuring each other’s unique gifts,
eyes lifted up to the starry galaxies and walking in unity and grace.
Like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. speaks forth, “Thank God Almighty, free at last!”.
And then later, back online, we can get rollin' with those fun relationships---
do you hear those riptides of laughter?
That’s my crazy, cavorting Facebook posse,
those irrepressible, prowling pursuers
of hearty belly laughs with crazy videos and photos,
sweet release—
splashing endorphins over the shores of our brains,
and of course, those precious poems commemorating my adventures
recovered from my faltering hard drive.
And, oh, I almost forgot---
from the ancient Sanskrit language comes the name,
seems like dance music to me---
Harshitha, which in English means “joy overflowing”!
(for Sandy)
after I leave her hospital room,
I step out under a full moon night--
and there, on the passenger seat
a solitary plumbago petal
fallen from the flowers I had brought---
carries my mind away to brighter times,
hiking by Blue Polemoniums on high
mountain ridges under the wide sky---
and then in the night, our hearts thrilled
by our place in the resplendent spiralling galaxies
still, the shaken corolla---
this breaking of the body
engraves a pathway
for the boundless love of the Great I Am
to bend down bearing Bread
One
Day In Time
today we springing into the Sierra mountains
to listen to riversong
and revel in the splendor
of wildflowers on the slopes
stopping to open pearl-white satin Globe Lily blossom,
following the maroon pathway that guides
the bees carrying pollen
into the mysterious birthplace of seeds---
yes, to go slowly enough to see the delicate
hand of God in creation
just now a whirling stream
of irredescent blue Hairstreak Butterflies
go surfing over waves of purple Lupine---
Oh, the richness of God in the simple things
to see the joy in my wife's eyes at the unfolding spring,
the mountainsides blooming and afternoon sun lighting
the river as it plays a delightful sonata---
all these make the soul dance with satisfaction.
They will
not be denied
(Sacramento River Valley, January)
three straight days boxed in by valley fog,
but on my stroll by slumbering oak and liquidambar trees;
high over the sky-reaching branches,
a small band of crows,
like the dark vanguard of hope,
winging their way home,
cutting the grip
of this gray, somber morning with their strident
yet somehow festive clamor of calls
they will not be denied their steady advance
toward the sun
yet unseen in the distance
how Mockingbird loves to party!
a rich virtuoso serenade
that cascades through moonlit nights---
a waterfall of celebration songs
from high perches in the landscape
a repertoire drawn
from blue jay, mourning dove, meadowlark;
to each migrating flock,
Mockingbird proclaims:
"Play me your tune and I'll sing it till dawn."
my neighbors complain about this all-night show,
but I stand outside and applaud as they bob and bow,
set free a stream of musical watercolor,
then sail on from high wire stage to stage---
a trail of songs illumines a new and joyful way --
you see, I like to imagine Mockingbird painting
the night sky to lift up those with disabling
disease--yes, I can see and hear it. can you?---
even with one broken wing
the soul can catch wind currents, can soar and sing
in the early evening,
drinking red wine
and eating strawberries
in the corner of the courtyard
under the giant Redwood trees
the captivating tune from a trio of Red Finches
bursting into the setting sun
how refreshing to enter the evening
by feasting on the joy of music
specially composed for our delight
a shining iridescent pathway
pulsating with the promise of rivers of living water
into hearts craving this cleansing forgiving love
that comes only from above
through the Father of lights
Let’s celebrate the Magnificent maestro or maestra Mockingbird
coming on stage right now at the midnight hour!
These musical painters open the program
with a jivin’ jazzy Redwinged Blackbird jam session
then, on to the passionate song of White-crowned Sparrow
I invite you to give this artiste your full attention:
it'll be riversong currents cascading through the silvery night---
then unleashing waterfalls of Meadowlark delight all this while atop a power pole---bravo, bravissimo!
Hey, people, this gig is gonna’ happen and you may be dancin’
when Mockingbird raps a tune with jubilant joy,
and how about some humor? Mockingbird cracks us up
with the new edition of “Sounds of the Day”---
“Shrieking Cat Cry” to bring enemy Blue Jays to a screeching halt….
“why,” you ask, and Mockingbird jauntily replies:
Laddies and Lassies, do you not know?
We've got a nest nearby and Blue Jays are robbers in this neighborhood.”
but wait, Mockingbird is just now sending a text message:
it says: “Listen up, you flocks of fluttering wings.
Play me your tune and I’ll sing it till dawn."
I know, the neighbors complain about this all-night show,
but we choose to cheer them on as they bob and bow.
let’s celebrate these flamboyant painters stroking the starry night sky
They'll set you free with their leaping soaring musical watercolors
the losses from this disease
have stripped so much from me.
You can even scan the passing
clouds through my barren limbs.
One thing I have learned though,
sitting in this solitary place,
here watching the flowering plum tree in winter—
I see
dancing bands of Goldfinches and Oregon Juncos
come flying in for their banquet
of wine-red plum tree buds.
The plum tree seems to be gaining strength
as it patiently waits through stormy days,
long stretches of fog covering,
quiet nights communing only with stars—
yes, I believe that plum tree is on the move
just as sure as the food from its flower buds
quicken the flight of migrating birds
winter can strip the branch,
bend it with fierce winds,
yet, flowering embryos break forth,
there is sweet birth in the secret place
and wings beat with the light springing
from pulsating plum-trees.
relentlessly breaking forth!
God's light at the heart
of blooming flowers made visible
and flight feathers of this invincible
dance of love expanding,
lifting off into high mountain wind currents
right now cavorting and dancing around the corral
both of them fiery, nostrils flaring,
all primed to lunge forward into wild desert
this dazzling spring morning.
ther're already springing forward as we jump into place,
their hearty spirits leaping with adventurous delight
wheeling and whisking over the dunes
like a gust of wind rushing past the open arms of Ocotillo cactus and Joshua trees
bursting over every rising crest of sand
just ahead, aa cascading rainbow of wildflowers,
the expanding horizon paints while the expanding horizon dances with the nightsky--
our horses with the horses with their tails flashing,
their necks arched with excitement,
charging forward into every fresh challenge---
from the prophet Isaiah, chapter 40:
“those who wait for the LORD will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles”
Hey, sisters, and a few brothers out there.
We not only have rivers of living waters flowing within us,
as Jesus says, welling up to eternal life,
but we can also soar on wings like eagles
when we embrace with our whole hearts
Jehovah Shammah, the God Who never leaves us.
But let’s back up for just a moment to where it says
“wait for the Lord,” you see, in Hebrew, this word “wait”
refers to ‘making rope,’ I think you see the image,
as you and I weave the strands of our hearts’ desires
into His glorious design, we catch the flow of the Holy Spirit.
And do you remember Moses song where he describes the LORD
as a mother eagle hovering over the nest
so the young must venture out into the strong wind currents
or how ‘bout when the LORD needs to move us out
of our holding patterns and back into His adventurous plan.
And if we start losing altitude, He swoops beneath us
sharpening our strength so we can be all we were meant to be.
Now, it’s full tilt into bright wondrous expeditions
with the LORD of lords
dancin’ with the GOD of overflowing joy,
and remember Isaiah gleefully hollerin’: “Sing for joy, O heavens;
rejoice, O earth. Break into song, O mountains!
For the LORD comforts His people
and will have compassion on His afflicted ones.”
I’m sure you all have marveled at the deep treasure
of the LORD‘s comfort and compassion.”
Seeing you here right now is a world away from the lost anxious eyes
I see in people around town who are unanchored,
who have no peace in their hearts.
Yet when harsh winds lash against us and we feel like castaways
in the wilderness, we remember our God saying,
“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget, I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your broken walls are ever before me.”
Wow, so let’s give thanks that we can soar
above the mountains through wind-currents
like eagles with eyes blazing,
locking our gaze onto His mission for our lives-
sharing words of wisdom and grace with wandering souls we meet.
Finally, this from Scottish pastor Robert M’cheyne:
“For every look at yourself, take 10 looks at Christ.
Such infinite majesty. Live much, live much in the smiles of God.”
Can I get an amen? Yeah!
(dedicated to Dr. Aria, Biofeedback instructor, and my fellow mindful classmates)
(4-7-8 is an empowering tool to center and quiet yourself and be more mindful, and it consists of this:
4 diaphragmatic breaths, then hold to the count of 7, and breathe out to the count of 8)
my new shelter in the time of storm
my new playful mental trampoline in the midst of traffic
my easy flyin’ way to lift my mind up above the tumultuous turmoil
Check this out:
4---breathing the mountain air as I step out for a day hike
7---stopping my river rapids and waterfalls to get into the flow
8---walking under pine trees listening to songs of Warblers and Western Tanagers
or how about this:
4---revving up the plane’s engines
7---accelerating down the runway as I let it all go
8---soaring away into the sky as my mind and body
settle into the sweet release of that peaceful place
down deep in my soul.
Just minutes ago, I was up against a tense situation
where I needed the 4, 7, 8 to settle my mind.
So, In the midst of conflict, I was already traveling to that quiet place
and there I remembered this proverb from King Solomon:
“A gentle response turns away anger and wrath,
but a sharp tongue stirs up a temper flare.”
Then, I scoped out the situation before I turned and said…....
Wondrously crafted creations of God are right now
being sold multiple times into the hands of darkness---
those willing to pay for their sex slave for the evening.
Not very long, because you see, these average age 12 to 14 year old children
have a quota, according to their pimp, that needs to be reached,
or there will be no food, no water and maybe a beating or two
until they reach that nightly quota,
and if the young girls or boys show any sign of wanting to break free,
then the pimps will call all their fellow pimps together
to gang rape this young girl into total obedience.
Can you imagine? This priceless one,
woven into existence by the hand of the Most High God,
being crushed into paydirt for pimps---
listen to this: these young girls have an average lifespan of only 7 years
after being taken, swept away, broken, held captive,
sold as a slave, a sex slave, undressed and undone.
Does this sound like something a young child would choose as a profession?
it is now the biggest illegal moneymaker worldwide,
recently skyrocketing past illegal arms sales and drug sales for this dubious title.
Now drug sellers have turned to the sex trade,
after all, they can sell these young girls over and over
during their short but profitable lifespan.
In this corridor between Sacramento and San Francisco
flows 75% of the vicious, revolting sex trafficking in the US.
So, back to where we started, no, not in our own backyard,
in our own front yard, priceless children enslaved.
where pimps on bicycles hand out room keys to sex customers
for the nearby motel and 2 brand-new hotels on Auburn Boulevard,
the girls behind the doors waiting to be sliced and diced,
used mercilessly until some, (O, may we be the light in this darkness),
may we stand up and break down their chains, offer them a hope and a future.
A pathway through the long healing of body, mind and spirit
into the freedom of loving care, the freedom of forgiveness
and yet how we can endure and overcome ---
a large house in Cambodia recently brought to light
and put out of business by International Justice Mission,
who notified local authorities and revealed to them
how their young people are being exploited.
You see, this place was used for cybersex,
children from age 2 to age 12 (you heard that right—two years old)
were placed in front of a computer screen using Skype
and forced to commit barbarous relentless unending sex acts
so the customers in some faraway land
on their computers could revel in this atrocity.
Some children used so brutally and so many times,
that they bled to death. Hey, no problem,
plenty more children for use across Southeast Asia and this world.
Such is the life of a sex slave.
No light, only vicious, malevolent darkness and never-ending rape.
to bring light and hope and freedom.
We’re going to the root of this evil to cut out this heart of darkness.
Yes, we’ll walk with these rescued young boys and girls
through the long healing process from castaway
to those who can embrace freedom at last!
Sheltered safe in the arms of caring people and the arms of God.
this exploding sex slavery has even surpassed
the ugly transatlantic slave trade that took place back then,
both in size and scope. You all get the picture.
We’ve got some glorious God-empowered work to do,
But let’s rise up in this day with confident trust
like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. rose up in Washington DC in 1963
and claimed victory when he shouted, “Let freedom ring”
from the northern California corridor to the streets of New York.---
We look forward to that day when all God's children walk arm in arm proclaiming
“Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, free at last!
after the wondrous winter rain and snow,
the mountain wildflowers are resplendent
on this side trail I found
on my way back off the rocky crags of the Pacific Crest Trail.
Feels like you do when you open your arms wide to embrace a loved one,
makes your heart sing---
and yes,I got to see my personal favorite---
Shooting Star that always dazzles at this high elevation.
and not even a sudden rain and hailstorm could silence the music.
I waited out the 20 minute storm under overhanging rocks
surrounded by 7 kinds of wildflowers singing their songs---
this is music that makes you dance down the trail with delight.
Such a rich praiseworthy array of colors
and gloriously designed leaves and flower petals,
and later when looking through a microscope
into the depths of each flower,
our minds explode with joy as a whole new shining universe rises into view,
reminds us when we look out into the starry galaxies
through Hubble telescope images of the most distant star in the universe,
100 times farther than any other stars,
flashing turquoise and red light rays shining out of the glowing, vibrating center.
All this is ours for the taking—
let’s savor every fresh inspiring splendor.
Each step is special,
and we’ll never run out of heart-soaring
trails, flowers, trees, mountains and galaxies to lift us up.
I just now mapped out my next hiking adventure. How about you?
hooks on claws
catch any crack in the bark
savoring acorn
and leaf beetle cuisine
for years Kokanee salmon search
the wide waters of Lake of the sky
until that autumn day
when the call comes to that sacred place of birth--
with steady purpose, they move against the current,
hurtling forward over rocks
and snags to gravel beds in Taylor Creek,
where they awoke in the flowing Sierra snowmelt
silvery blue Kokanee
turn blood-red on their death and life journey
to bury the harvest of luminous eggs—
vision the waters of our years,
listening for the call of our Maker?
in this blood-red passage,
a crossing from death
to this radiant, life-giving path
(Black-chinned Hummingbird and Anna's
Hummingbird in Northern California)
bright shimmering samba dancers on my patio
moving with such grace through crimson Salvia---
it’s Hummingbird like a whirling incandescent carnaval
sizzling down the avenue of blooming Hibiscus
wings in constant percussion,
feather dance at 80 wingbeats per second
diving into a fiesta of flowers,
Hummingbird reaches deep inside
singing praise for the sweet gift,
then turning into the beat of the music---
snare drum wings
leave a trail of swaying blossoms
aerial acrobat par excellence,
bright iridescent miracle in our midst,
Trumpet vine flowers bending downward---
yet with loose body samba
Hummingbird laps luminous nectar,
stirs up our streets, stirs up our hearts into joyous dawn-spring jubilee
hummingbirds feast at my tasty nectar bar
hovering at 80 wingbeats per second
then, break away like a shooting star
to the next flower feast, or is it flower fiesta?
or maybe it goes like this:
la fiesta de las flores---
I kinna’ like those Spanish sounds. How about you?
But let’s get back to these brightly colored acrobats
who know how to do all the fast dances---
they can do Salsa, cha-cha-cha, big city rap dance,
they can tango with the best in Argentina,
and have you seen them do the samba from Rio de Janeiro
down the avenues of flowers like fiery red Salvia,
striking purple Foxglove, or flavorful Peach Snapdragon?
so, what I’m sayin’ to ya’, sisters and brothers,
is that these wondrous birds in their shining iridescent colors
would love to give you the pleasure of their live performance,
show you their flyin’ skills and do some exciting riffs
with their supersonic drumming wings.
I’m bettin’ you’ll go home singin’ and movin’ your body
every which way to the tune of Hummingbird Love
through a field of wheat,
two teenage boys on in-line skates
bursting down opposite sides of the street
a storm looms in the winter sky
as they skim up concrete driveways,
toss the “home-sale” fliers onto porches,
then whip away into the breeze
their faces are flush with body heat,
eyes bright as they twist and glide
on their sweep through the neighborhood
just ahead of the galloping, onrushing clouds
soon this garrulous band
with their raucous banter
shake the tops of oak tree
as they gather the bounty of acorns,
hammer the harvest into their granary,
pounce on intruding jay---
see them dressed like whiteface clowns,
listen to their festive
worksongs and mealtime chatter
this team of jesters
and their lapping waves of laughter.
this drumbeat echoing through timeless wildwood---
it is good, yes, it is very good
(in memory of naturalist John Muir)
“this hummingbird of blooming waters”
navigates stampeding rapids with panache and pizzazz---
dives headfirst swimming with its wings,
able to spy small fish or mayflies underwater
through specially crafted transparent eyelids
and after a tasty meal, they rise to the surface
gripping a wet rock with claws and toes
and then, get ready!!
as they break into a marvelous, frolicking show,
flamboyantly rompin’ and jammin’ to the tempo of the current
as their jubilant piping call pierces right through this river valley---
the cadence of this captivating bird carries me
into the heartbeat of surging cascading waters---
unveiling their bright new riverdance
bursting with passion, zesty with life.
Their mission this day: to bring vibrant adventurous joy---
no matter the blustery winter winds!
(in memory of Chilean Pablo Neruda and his Elemental Odes)
advance runners stretch out an expansive canopy
like a tent over a big-time performer,
and there---hidden away as behind a stage curtain
are the ones known for their bravura,
their skill at closing a meal with a grand gesture
these
are the red luminous stars of summer,
the allegro movement in a symphony of fruit,
waterfalls bursting over cliffs like a torrent,
so bracing that you want
to dance a sensuous tango,
play a sonorous violin,
lift your voice in song
to the waves of joy
splashing through your body.
Yes, let these bright waves of flavor sweep over you,
lost in the festive flood of celebration with all your loving friends.
wise-crackin', jokin' around, cavortin' with your sidekicks
and then the coup de grace, dippin' strawberries into warm dark chocolate
and then lifting this decadent delight into your waiting lips. Howsuh about that, people?
I’m usually in a rush to get things done,
so I certainly don’t spend any time watching spiders
and their webs around my place.
In fact I usually swing my arm through the strands
to make sure they don’t make their home near my place.
But this time, as I was leaving my apartment
I was struck by the elaborate, wide-ranging design
stretching from my porch railing up to the stairs above me
with several crossing layers where flying insects get caught in the tangles,
providing me with protection from lots of pesky critters
and since the web wasn’t blocking the pathway to my door,
I decided to leave it there so I could enjoy
this weaving of rapturous, melodious music,
the sun radiating a rainbow of scintillating colors,
while the arcing pockets of the web take shape
Now, I’m the one who slows down for a while
to listen as the spider plays the filaments of its web like a dazzling violin---
the rolling interwoven tableau, invisible at most angles,
but when we linger in the quietness of this moment,
like a sonata for strings, it serenades our hurried souls!
(for a young Cedar Waxwing fallen from the nest)
You, precious one, so magnificently dressed---
silky cinnamon turning gray with bright yellow tail bands,
your head accented with the black mask of Zorro
and crimson tips on your wing feathers
painted by the very hand of God and much cared for,
as Jesus says: “Not a single sparrow can fall to the ground
without our Father knowing it.”
I gotta’ say that in the short time
from when you were lifted from the ground
and resting on a small blanket and still alive,
we had already fallen in love with you in your quiet beauty.
You had our hearts ‘aflyin’ with joy mixed with sorrow that day,
and we promise to be watchful of your sisters and brothers.
And with that, we celebrate you--- stylin’, on point little friend.”
(after Psalm 133)
How great and invigorating it is
when GOD’s children stride forward in unity!
It is like precious H2O gushing
from mountain springs and streams,
surging down the high Sierra,
surging down in fast-flowing waterfalls,
down in rushing river-currents.
It is like the dew shining at dawn
in low branches of Aspen and Pine trees.
For with God, the gurgling waters are a new birth,
a wellspring of passionate love and transforming times with the GREAT I AM forever.
Plaque on Hungarian Reformed Church)
burned villages, people assigned to cold apartment blocks,
reign of an oppressive dictator---
protesters disappearing into the darkness
a passion for Christ overcoming the gray dawn,
voices of celebrations singing above Ceausescu's iron hand
believers from all churches, one in Christ, do not yield,
hundreds of candles, a shield of light in the night
(Gulag, Soviet Union prison camp--dissident
poet, Irina Ratushinskaya--"Pencil Letters")
"God does not exist," and she reasoned,
they must be trying to hide someone very powerful.
when imprisoned for anti-Soviet education--writing
poetry,
yet she carved her poems on bars of soap until memorized
her soul, grounded in Christ Who shared her suffering,
borne up by the bright prayer path of worldwide believers
holding each one in her arms as precious jewels,
Saint of the Gutter in the flow of Jesus' living waters
then sharing that Bread of Life with hungry souls,
the darkness of their sorrows relieved by hands of love
to shine as You shine."---her call to us: "Yesterday is
gone.
tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us
begin."
under the rule of Idi Amin and Milton Obote,
no families left untouched by maniacal murder
gathered in secret places---jungles, caves and swamps
continually asking God to come back to their nation
God's hand quelling the specter of Ugandan AIDS epidemic,
a dry wilderness transformed by shining waterfalls of devotion and worship
in Colorado
(my mother, Margaret, has late-stage Alzheimer's)
entering her room
her eyes lift up from darkness
focusing on love
cottonwood leaves fall--
on fast-running mountain stream
Mom clutches my coat
leaves strewn on water
by billowing autumn winds
swept away by waves
her sure foundation
in the LORD Who has fashioned
these mountains and streams
one embrace with Christ
opens vistas of splendor
boundless Light and Peace
(these
haiku come from the experience of playing American football)
Victory
close game, clock
ticks down
winning team explodes with joy,
high fives all around
leaps with outstretched arms
soars high above defender
spears spinning football
slashes
off-tackle
body stays low to the ground
fakes left, then long gone
Defensive End
pushes past blockers
gets by through last defender---
path to quarterback
kicker's two
quick steps---
silence before crowd erupts,
ball splits the uprights
Other Haiku
high in the blue sky,
hundreds of pilgrims in flight
as my mind wings home
in the bright heavens,
all this never-ending light---
how can we not know?
summer breeze courses
through singing willow branches;
she loosens her blouse
gray squirrel searching
around each branch for acorns---
blue jay eyes each move
For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer
delivering only one & a half pots full of water in his
master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its
accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But
the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection &
miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had
been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it
spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am
ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."
"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed
of?"
"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only
half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak
out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws,
you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value
from your efforts," the pot said.
The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his
compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I
want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path."
Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice
of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the
path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it
still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so
again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.
The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were
flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other
pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw,
and I took advantage of it.
"I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every
day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For
two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to
decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you
are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."
Life lessons from the story:
God can take our flaws and turn them into flowers. God can take our struggles and turn them into stars. God can take our greatest pain and turn it into our greatest purpose. God can take what we see as weaknesses and turn them into
strengths for His glory and to light up the world with His Presence .
