it’s all grace

We met Maria on F2F trip and returned home to hear sermon on John 5…comparisons and contrast are striking!

retired (or just tired)

Thank God for retirement! People may think the idea unbiblical but I disagree. God told Moses that priests should serve from age 25-50 and then retire.* They could help the younger priests after that. Of course, you don’t quit working; just quit working full-time and do what you can to help the next generation(s). You are free from the pressure to perform!

You must earn this stage of life and then you can reap the blessings of age. It’s hard for many to have enough to live on in later years because none of us know how long we’ll live so what is “enough”? It may be elusive but what a grand concept…to finally make time for the things you really want to do. Travel, exercise, volunteer, pray, read, spend time with spouse, visit friends, enjoy grandchildren, try hobbies, write poetry!

Growing older is not for the faint of heart, especially as the heart may faint. Body parts give out and may need repair or replacement but there’s no real cure for aging. You may even reach invisibility…people no longer pay attention to you which can be frustrating because you finally have the wisdom of experience! Yet now you are free to be you without worrying what other people think…except you want to be a better example to the youngsters.

to quote my dear aunt,

“aging is not for wimps”

travel down new roads

*Numbers 8:24-26

Linked with dVerse poets where Frank J. Tassone is hosting haibuns…

popurri sensorial

in downtown boaco, nicaragua,

from pillared balcony we view

a celebration of woman’s day

while folkloric dancers twirl skirts

and babies cry in central plaza.

below cathedral’s clanging bell,

where thorny sangre de Cristo blooms,

a carnival worker pushes carousel and

smells of exhaust, tamales, popcorn mix;

un perro stretches lazily across bench

as thin horse clops by with firewood

and motorcycles roar past hotel

along steep somoza-stoned streets

under pastel sunset behind hills,

the city lights blink to night music.

photo by lynn

whimsy swim meet

along bank’s river

where snows fall twice

there flows fish ice

beneath the candling sky

of ceiling wax

a waxing seal

barks swimmingly in whalousy,

“’tis otterly ridiculous-ness, yes?”


Join us for word play at dVerse poets!

he’s in God’s hands now

daddy’s hands would hold mine when i was afraid,

fix my bike chain when it was loosened,

fold together in mealtime prayers, or

show me how to move chess pieces

yes, i have my father’s eyes

bluish-green or greenish blue

framed by long lashes and able

to see another’s point of view

as a teenager, i’d protest:

“papa, don’t preach!” but

that didn’t slow his sermons on

following everybody off a cliff

daddy could swear, i declare,

he swore in dutch at car engine

when i asked what those words meant

he commanded, “go to the house!”

no one could tease or make

me laugh as much as dad did;

every grin and guffaw conveyed

message, “your daddy loves you!”

A father poem, including song titles, linked to dVerse poets pub.

triolet nicaraguanse

life may seem perfect in paradise

but don’t drink the agua in managua

when you travel abroad, cheles, be wise

life may seem perfect in paradise

both piety and poverty wear a disguise

tourist trap market maze sells smells of iguana

life may seem perfect in paradise

but don’t drink the agua in managua


“Agua” is water and “cheles” refers to light-skinned people. A triolet is a poem with 8 lines and ABaAabAB rhyme/repeat scheme.


sometimes i state the obvious because

it obviously moves me

beyond definition

woman is well-rounded;
engineered with soft curves
to offer warm comfort, to
surround with accepting love

her wise eyes see hearts,
perceive another’s authenticity;
her sincere smile extends welcome
to beloved ones and strangers

she embodies social stability,
possesses strength of experience;
can keep home fires burning
and sustain the life of family

like her monthly cycle,
she gives generously
yet renews her energy;
circular pattern moves forward

why are we so afraid of
intrinsic-born femininity?
embrace the beautiful differences
of reality’s complimentary design!

a woman is not a man
and need not pretend to be
we are womb of humanity
and live beyond definition

master of ceremonies

at small town wedding party,
invited guests drank and danced
in week-long jewish celebration

“they’ve run out of wine,” she
stated simply yet in urgent tone
to rabbi son seated with disciples

(why should I reveal my powers
to rescue neighbor’s reputation
when it is not my time to die?)

“do whatever he tells you,” she
nodded to shamefaced servants
holding empty thirty-gallon jugs

he ordered them to fill jars
with water, draw out sample
and take it to master of feast

who sputtered after tasting,
“why would the family wait to
serve finest wine until now?”

not watery kool-aid or cheap
wine cooler but velvety merlot
or perhaps deepest sauvignon

gift from him, the vine and groom,
whose wine of blood saves from
shame all who will drink in faith

(see John 2:1-11)

woke psychiatry

what is a wo-man?
definitions can bend,
we deny motherhood
and give it to men

diagnostic manual
has changed over years,
believe you’re a unicorn?
here’s a horn and fake ears

gender disphoria is
a new-fashioned curse;
we won’t make it/they better
but can help them feel worse

crack addicts, delusioned
psychotics…don’t treat —
they seem perfectly happy
living homeless on street

wide-spread mental illness
society sick with dis-ease
throw out DSM / Bible
and think as you please!


Will the thought police come after me?

smudge of grace

ashes to ashes

made from dust, to dust return

yet, we shall be changed!


Christian observation of Ash Wednesday reminds us of our mortality.

point of reference

Happy to join Kristjaan at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai in an ekphrastic prompt!

in surreal dream scene

mysterious smoke signals

above lonely tree

is this a call to battle

or full moon celebration?

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