Falling in Love

Your emails I read like no other;
Your words always real, not pretend.
I valued your mind and your passion,
But I wasn’t in love with you then.

I cherished your humor and laughter
And each little quip you would send.
You gave me a smile I could count on,
But I wasn’t in love with you then.

You said you were thinking about me;
I said there’s no stopping God’s plans,
That distance and time cannot phase Him,
But I wasn’t in love with you then.

I needed your deep understanding
To help with the loss of a friend.
You offered your heart and your spirit,
But I wasn’t in love with you then.

Respect in your voice found me seeking;
I felt closer to you as a man.
My woman’s heart leapt at your sweetness,
And I fell in love with you then.

Together we’re planning our future,
As soulmates and lovers and friends.
And when I look back on our story,
My heart falls in love once again.

My Greatest Gift

On this December 20th, I must say that despite its ups and downs, or more accurately, downs and ups, 2017 has been a good year for me. But as you read the following, remember I said downs and ups. And also remember it was a good year.

I spent January through March eating vegan food, carried over from October, 2016. It was my second try at veganism, and I don’t know whether I failed, or it’s just not for me. I also don’t know if it matters.

Little did I know the Ides of March, March 15th, would be such a “lucky” day for me! Looking back that day will always stand out in my memory. That’s when
The Blind Poet, Freddy G.
joined Behind our Eyes, a group for writers with disabilities. I will never forget what I thought: “Freddy G. He’s either a rapper or a sax player.” Well, he is neither, but he does love music. We truly connected through our writing, which is spiritual and inspirational for both of us. We value honesty, positivity, and spirituality, and that is very clear in our writing. Because of this we became friends before I even realized it. Now hold that thought, because Freddy is featured in later events this year.

Starting in February and through Lent, I wrote extra songs, with the encouragement of a pastor and 2 friends. You may know I’ve made the commitment to write one song every week. I am happy if there are extra ones, beyond the one I’ve promised, but usually they are just that – extras. They don’t fulfill the weekly requirement. Well, this year was different. Stay tuned!

April was National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo), and just like last year, I wrote a poem a day, or 36-in-30, because there were some Limerick collections. Also in April I was shaken by the first of 2 car accidents. I was bruised, and the chest pain lasted several weeks. Fortunately, no one in the vehicle was seriously injured. However, I’ve had trouble riding in certain vehicles, and with certain drivers ever since. After the accident I started sharing work with Freddy that I didn’t share with others. It was a gradual opening up that just felt natural.

April was a busy month, as my ordination license renews annually, and I am always proud of that. In addition, I had the opportunity to sing for residents of a local nursing home. I was worried the residents wouldn’t be able to relate to my original songs. But I worried for nothing. I don’t know who enjoyed the afternoon more – me or the residents. One man said, “I could have listened to you all day.” And a woman who heard me sing before requested some songs. They weren’t on my list, but I had to do them. It’s not every day you get requests for your own work; so that was an honor to me.

In May Freddy and I started talking on the phone. Again it was one of those things whose impact you don’t know until later. And it had quite an impact!

Several things happened in June; let’s take the less fortunate ones first. Turning to reach for something, I tripped over a toy truck, knocked into a small table, fell, and sprained my right pinkie. This is the same finger I fractured as a child; so I am blessed it didn’t break this time. I spent 4 weeks in a splint, playing only ukulele because it was easier on that hand. And every day Freddy emailed or called, asking, “How’s your finger? Did you have your coffee? Did you meditate today?” And still I didn’t realize what was happening. For lack of a better phrase, how blind could I be?

A second car accident shook me in June. No one was hurt, though we missed a telephone pole by about 2 feet! Why couldn’t they keep that detail to themselves? It didn’t help my nerves or blood pressure one bit. However, it certainly gave me something to be thankful for. As I said after the first one, “That could have been so much worse!” Not 3 minutes after I got out of the car, Freddy called and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you OK?” Our spiritual connection is the only explanation of how he knows these things, before I even speak.

The week after this accident, I ended a difficult friendship. And later that week, I received the most precious gift of a personal love poem from Freddy. We have been a happy couple since then.

July and August were quiet months. But at the end of August was the injury that inspired the song,
“Give Back to You.”

Freddy also wrote a story about how strong I was during the weeks when I wrote 3 songs instead of 6. Though I did not feel strong, his support and encouragement touched me deeply. Those extra songs from earlier in the year came in handy when I could not play, and didn’t know if I would ever play music again. I do play now, thank the Lord! But my hands need more caution than before.

In September hurricane Irma reared her ugly head, giving Freddy and me a literal storm to weather. And weather we did, with God’s protection and peace. It inspired the song,
“Centered in the Storm.”

That 7 weeks of muscular injury really put a damper on my plans. I had scheduled a trip to Miami for October, but was in too much pain to make travel either practical or fun. So with great regret I canceled the trip. That was another storm we had to face. But I turned 33 and celebrated my first enjoyable birthday in a long time. I got my cheesecake and one wonderful present, a story from Freddy. And near the end of October, songwriting resumed as usual. I remain truly grateful for that!

In November, the season of Thanksgiving, I made that trip to Miami. It was fun, beautiful, sweet, and lasting. It was great to spend time with Freddy and trade the Pennsylvania cold for sunny and 85 degrees, even if only for a weekend.

Now as I write this, it is Advent. In these weeks leading up to the celebration of Christ’s birth, I truly have a lot to be thankful for. In the words of one of my favorite Bible verses:

And now abide faith, hope, and love, these three. But the greatest of these is love.
–1 Cor. 13:13 (NASB)

May you be surrounded by love this season, from those around you and above all from the Spirit of Christ within you! Merry Christmas, and a blessed 2018!

Legend of the Claddagh

Young Richard with a group set sail
To catch the village fish,
And on his way imprisoned by
A Spanish pirate ship.

Distraught, the men worked hard as slaves;
Young Richard, he did pine.
But stole a bit of Master’s gold
For her he left behind.

From precious gold he shaped a ring
With prayers to God above
That he return one bless-ed day
To marry his true love.

The years went by and years went by,
As Richard kept his heart
Until the day he was released,
So happy to depart.

Returning home he found his love,
Remaining ever true.
The Claddagh Ring he gave to her,
A token of the proof.

Today we wear the Claddagh still,
With hands and heart and crown.
It shines upon the hand of one
Whom her true love has found,
Reminding all who see it:
Love does make the world go round!


My poetic version of the Irish
Legend of the Claddagh.

IWalk this Floor

I walk this floor and cannot see.
So please don’t walk in front of me!

I ask and ask, but to and fro,
My path is still the way they go.

Perhaps I need to wear a sign:
Those feet are yours, and these are mine.

And if they cross, we both go down.
I walk this floor, so walk around!

Oh be ye person, dog or foul,
Please find another place to prowl.

This house is big enough, you see.
I walk this floor. So let me be!

Remember as you end your day,
The vacuum has a place to stay.

And put things back where they belong
Before the nighttime comes along.

If one dark night the power goes,
You’ll need a torch or lantern’s glow.

And you will have to ask me where.
I just might find them, if I care.

I live here too, not having sight.
But I’m not giving up my rights.

You see the people, pets and more.
But don’t forget: I walk this floor!


This poem is true. It’s funny, unless you’re the one tripping over, colliding with, banging into, knocking over, or otherwise having unpleasant encounters with people, pets, and assorted obstacles–not in an unfamiliar place, but at home. It’s not what I usually write, as I don’t like to dwell on these things. But sooner or later, everything must come to light! Please remember, whomever you meet in your daily life, show some (un)common human respect for them!

Shared at
dVerse OpenLinkNight #196

Twisted Poetry

Poetry is a beautiful thing. I read it. I write it. I hear it. I recite it. But when rhythm and rhyme are used in a negative message, poetry chills me to the bone. As a child I could not hear Rock-a-Bye Baby without cringing. And when I had a child, I didn’t sing or read him nursery rhymes. Three Blind Mice; Wee Willie Winkie; Diddle, Diddle Dumpling, even Humpty Dumpty–all were off limits. He heard them from others, on television, and in books, but not from me. It was, and is, too frightening. And the more repetition I hear, the more trapped I feel. I feel physically and emotionally restrained, helpless, and horrified. All I can do is hold on until it passes, until the poetry stops, then deal with the cold sweat that sometimes results. It is one of my favorite things, poetry, working against me in a cruel twist of rhyming, rhythmic fate.

Nature’s poetry
twisted and mangled in death
is this beauty too?


For NaPoWriMo day 17, a Haibun for Toni’s “fear” prompt at
dVerse.

The Easter Egg Hunt

If you received this post by email, click the URL to hear this song.

I wrote a Christ-centered Easter song, of course. You’ll hear that tomorrow! But when I mentioned Easter songs, someone asked if it was about a chocolate egg. It wasn’t, at that point, but I couldn’t resist. This is a cautionary tale… May your Easter egg hunt be a happy one!

1. This is the tale of an Easter egg hunt
That did not end very well.
Tommy and Tina were looking for eggs
And had a sad story to tell.
They tried and they tried, but they could not find
An egg that hid in the grass.
And later that year it was perfectly clear,
The time for that egg had passed.

2. This is the tale of an Easter egg hunt.
Oh yes, there’s more to share.
Some of those eggs, they had chocolate inside,
So sweet and rich and rare.
Tommy and Tina, they found all the eggs.
And oh the joy they felt!
Chocolate on chocolate on chocolate eggs!
And then they started to melt.

3. This is the tale of an Easter egg hunt,
And if you really must ask it,
The moral is sure. It’s so simple and pure:
Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.

Related

Aareen, The Woven Easter Egg

Easter Poem

A Little Love

If you received this post by email, click the URL to hear this song.

This song was written for Dominic Sweetman, who gave me a challenge. He wanted a story, and I said I could write one, but not instead of a song. We decided on a story-song containing a broomstick, a happy smile, and a wheelbarrow. We agreed it turned out well, so I’m sharing it here. 🙂

Also shared at
dVerse OpenLinkNight #192.

Instrument: Tempo – Seagull Excursion Folk Acoustic Guitar

1. I used to ride my broomstick
Through the country and the town,
Laughing at the couples
And wearing a big frown.
A wheelbarrow of past regrets,
It followed me around.
The streets were paved with sorrow
For the love I never found.

2. Till one fine day a man appeared
With a brilliant, shining smile.
He asked, “Why do you look so sad?
Let’s sit and talk awhile.”
My wheelbarrow he filled with dreams
And lightened every mile.
On roads of possibility
We travel side by side.
Refrain:

3. He swept me off my broomstick,
And I don’t miss it at all.
My feet are in the clouds;
It doesn’t matter if I fall.
I wear a happy smile
As I laugh and have a ball.
My wheelbarrow is filled with love
I share with one and all.
Refrain: (Twice)

O isn’t it amazing
What a little love,
A little love,
A little love can do!

Refrain:
My heart is open, I see hope and
Sparkles of the truth.
O isn’t it amazing
What a little love,
A little love,
A little love can do!

Spirit of Music

I loved her even before I saw her, heard her, held her in my arms. Sure, it was because I met one like her, an older, more imposing, different one, just similar enough to help me name what I was looking for.

Yet I had to wait. Money was one problem; time was another. I didn’t have the right amount of either. But she waited, too, and I saved. When at last money and time came together, I called her, sight unseen, sound unheard.

When that one special, rightly chosen ukulele came into my open hands, my open heart responded. She is Brio, meaning spirit, enthusiasm, animation, dynamism (I like that!), verve. And with that Spirit, we create beautiful music together.

Love is the Lifeforce
Demanding seasons align
Waiting turns to bliss


Today Toni tends the pub at
dVerse,
presenting the task of composing a romantic haibun. There are 2 things I consciously hesitate to do here… 1) I try not to write much Japanese poetry like haiku or haibun, because I feel mine always fall short. 2) Romance? Uh, no. But I could not in good conscience totally blow off the prompt, especially not after reading the other poets’ beautiful contributions! And so, with trembling fingers I offer up the closest thing to romance I can muster. I hope it’s not too cheesy. 😮

And have a listen to Brio,
’cause the music flows freely around here!

This Life Path

The cherry tree stood tall and proud
And scattered blossoms far and wide
Until a whirling, swirling storm
Upset the tree upon its side.

The cherry tree was hard and old.
Its life was long and strength was true.
But this was just a chapter’s end;
The tree would have another use.

A spruce fell in that hurricane;
Its softer heart was taken fast.
But turning yet another page,
The spruce continued on its path.

The spruce and cherry met one day,
Both dried and sanded, cut and shaped.
The spruce was top, the cherry back:
An instrument they came to make!

So little do we know and see
Where we are meant to go…
But deep inside there shines a Spark,
The All there Is, that knows!

No one can choose a path for you
Or hand down what is right.
For like the trees you ebb and flow
With God as guiding Light.

Within you always, Pure and True,
If you will only knock
And open up your weary mind:
Its Center is the Rock.

The Fruitful Life, A Fable

Once upon a time, there was a ladder. It was so steep and so high that no one dared to climb it. It was steeper than a pitched roof. It was steeper than the top of a lighthouse or a pyramid. And it was so high that no one could see the top. Not even the tall giraffe who looked up and up and up with its long neck.

It wouldn’t have mattered, except that at the top of the ladder was something the animals needed. They needed fruit! And no one could help them get it.

The fruit was not falling down, but the animals were very hungry! Sometimes the birds and squirrels would shake the trees in their play, but the birds weren’t feeling playful. And the squirrels weren’t feeling kind. So, the fruit stayed on the trees.

The giraffe asked the birds, “Will you please help us?”

The birds just cawed, twittered and said no.

The lion roared at the squirrels, “Help us now!”

But the squirrels just tittered and laughed, “We will not help you!” They said, “We want to see if you can get your own fruit!”

Even the monkeys, who were usually very kind and generous, chattered and chattered in the trees as they swung from branch to branch. But they would not drop any fruit down to the other animals.

Then suddenly, there came a tiny sound. At first, no one heard it. And no one saw who was making it. The lion finally heard and saw the tiny mouse. He said, “Go away little mouse. You cannot help us here.”

The giraffe heard the mouse very faintly, for he was very tall. But he said, “Go away little mouse. You cannot help us here.”

But the mouse did not listen. mice never do, you know.

Instead, he ignored the other animals and focused on the fruit. Soon he began to climb the thin rungs of the ladder, and when he did, he discovered a wonderful thing! The ladder was made of rope!

Now, if there’s one thing mice love to do, it’s to chew things! So, the little mouse began to chew through the rope rungs.

“Stop! Stop!” cried the animals. “Do not destroy the ladder! How will we climb it again?”

But the mouse did not listen. Mice never do, you know.

He chewed and chewed and as he did, the wrung’s of the ladder fell down, down, down! As the rungs fell away one by one, the mouse clung to the sides of the ladder. Held steady by tree limbs at the top and boulders at the bottom, the side ropes did not budge.

The little mouse climbed and climbed, and chewed and chewed, leaving broken rope rungs behind him.

Finally, he reached the top of the ladder. All the rungs were gone, but the side ropes still held firm.

“Release the ropes!” the mouse called to the animals below.

“No!” they cried, “How will we ever climb up in the trees again?”

“I know!” the mouse shouted. “Trust me! Please, release the ropes!”

So, reluctantly, the animals shoved the boulders aside, and the ropes sprang free. Now the mouse was really excited!

The little mouse pulled and pulled on the ropes until they were all the way up high in the tree beside him. Then, he threw them over the branches. As he did, fruit began to rain down on the animals below!

“Hooray!” cheered the animals. “Thank you, Mouse!”

The little mouse smiled. “I only did what came naturally!”

Now, when the animals needed fruit, they could just pull the ropes, and fruit would be provided for them.

Because where there is a will, there is a way. Don’t believe me? Ask that little mouse, who heard his inner voice when it gave him the idea. He followed the guidance when his spirit told him the steps to take. And he saw it through until the goal was accomplished. He did what he was sent to do. It was all natural and part of a higher plan.

Wherever we are, God is there with us. And wherever we are, there’s a reason why. It is God’s reason, and His nature, our inner nature, will guide us through all things… If we just listen!

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not rely on your own insight.
In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.
–Proverbs 3:5-6 (NRSV)

You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit.
–Matthew 7:16-18 (NRSV)