(A thought for the new year)
I’d so often tried to be
The sort “they” thought I ought to be.
To wear the clothes, the face, the fit
To wow the crowds, to be a hit.
Yet hidden deep beneath it all
My hidden self began to call
“Now let me out, don’t be a fake!
Just let me fully life partake!
Open the window of your soul
For good or ill ‘twill make you whole”.
Hand shook and thumbled with the catch,
My inner being to unlatch.
Flung wide the door to let them see
That thing that was the inner me.
To my surprise and not alarm
They looked within serene and calm,
Embraced the inner me with love
Became connected far above
Those former shallow futile links
I’d made with “friends” all full of kinks.
The sun comes down upon me now
The art of living? I’ve…
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Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o’er the groaning rocks:
He withers all in silence, and his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
Dead and brown is all that once was verdant and full of life. And again today a north wind blew to scatter more of autumn’s splendrous, leafy remains. Willy nilly the leaves whirled about and over the ground as if they were happy children chasing one another. Though a smattering of leaves yet dons a tree or two, for the most part the yard is a graveyard of clattering skeletons, desiccated leaves and withered flowers, bare soil and beige sod. Too, the beating heart of Creation’s life has grown ever so faint, but nonetheless it is discernible to the listening, longing ear. All the while beneath the surface, there’s an entirely different story evolving. For it is there that miraculous, even magical, proceedings are taking place and moving to the rhythm of winter’s muted heartbeat. And as they advance, they gather strength from their sacred sources, mother nature and Father God. So carry on tiny embryos of earth’s womb; I shall wait patiently and not lose heart nor faith while surrounded by this death and decay for I trust and know you will rise in the Spring and once more thrill me beyond the ability to speak so that only squeals of joy will fill the space herein between heaven and earth.
How can those who do not garden,
who have no lot in the great fraternity
of those who watch the changing year
as it affects the earth and its growth,
how can they keep warm their hearts in winter?
“As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.” ~Genesis 8:22 ✝
**Photos taken by Natalie; collage by Natalie
**Photo taken by Natalie; text box found on Pinterest; collage by Natalie
**Image via Wallpapers App; text added by Natalie
**Images via Pinterest; collage by Natalie
Today, like most days here lately, it’s rainy, dreary and of the dismal sort. It’s the kind of cold, wet rain that settles down in your bones which you can’t seem to warm up from. It makes you want to crawl back under the covers and wait for a better day.
But real life is here with a call each and every day that must be answered, compelling us to rise and get going no matter what the weather is outside. Answering that call on a morning such as this, I remember one day when I drove across the highway to take my daughter to her college campus. On the way home I saw something that put a smile on my face. A man was walking in the rain with a bright orange raincoat. He was literally bouncing along with happiness in his steps. His mouth was moving and he…
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