a poem in my pocket

paddles lean 

on fence rails

(perhaps it’s

vice versa?)

logs built cabin

“up north” on

Isle of Pines.

lattice work

skirts porch,

window panes

frame scenery,

rough wood shakes

cover roof above

old plank floors.

sheltering trees

of old forest,

clusters of soft

pine needles,

dark ripples on

peeling bark,

scattered cones.

survival skills

for every season:

gardening, canning,

hauling supplies,

fishing, feeding birds,

chopping firewood,

cutting ice blocks.

preserves on shelf,

deer stew in pot

clothing on hooks,

stacks of wood,

crackle of ham radio,

hiss of teapot steam,

snowshoes by door.

Ms. Dorothy,

sole proprietor,

brews ‘n bottles

her homemade

root beer for

thirsty canoeists

who put ashore.

They clutch umbrellas tight

against rain blowing down;

all shaded, see no light,

dull minds and faces frown.

though now the storm is spent,

blue sky is peeping through;

conformity’s posture bent,

the crowd just finds his shoe.

imagination will rise, 

creativity’s cheery red;

 above dark thoughts he flies

to walk on clouds instead!

– photo by Joel Robison entitled “Breaking away” at http://joelrobison.com

“Good fences make good neighbors”

they say, quoting Robert Frost, who

himself questioned mending walls

but admitted there may be times

with cattle that it’s necessary.

yes, we know it’s true when 

gates are left open or fencing fails,

cattle do damage in another’s field;

good neighbors help round up strays

to be returned to respective home.

proper boundaries also preserve

respect in human relationships;

no one admires the adulterer who

disavows their spouse by taking

another lover if grass is greener.

dictators and dissidents cross

borders of sovereign nations,

disregarding the rule of law but

determined in their lust for power

to take a neighbor’s homeland.

we understand where the lines are

written in the sand;  yet somehow

we must welcome those who come

in peace to help mend fence together

can good gates also make good neighbors?

A haibun is a combination of prose and haiku.  Title and haiku poem below are mine;  prose selection is John Piper’s, from Taste and See (#136) 2005.

“For the followers of Jesus the final risk is gone. ‘Neither death nor life…will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ (Rom. 8:38,39).

When the threat of death becomes a door to paradise the final barrier to temporal risk is broken.  When a Christian says from the heart, ‘To live is Christ and to die is gain,’ he is free to love no matter what.

Some forms of radical Islam may entice martyr-murderers with similar dreams, but Christian hope is the power to love, not kill.  Christian hope produces life-givers, not life-takers.  The crucified Christ calls his people to live and die for their enemies, as he did.  The only risks permitted by Christ are the perils of love.  ‘Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.’ (Luke 6:27-28)

With staggering promises of everlasting joy, Jesus unleashed a movement of radical, loving risk-takers.  It is risky to serve Christ…When God removed all risk above, He loosed a thousand risks of love.”

real love will take risks

to share good news with dying

what have we to lose?

(an american “scent”ence)

My keen-nosed dog, Lily, 

regards her world as 

one big “sniff me” sticker.

beloved birth momma
photo framed in jewelry
i wear your image

given name: Gladys
best friends nicknamed you “Happy”
do you smile at me?

i was sixteen months
when you were taken from us
my heart remembers

In honor of my first mother with whom i share a valentine birthday.