Hope

Hope

Today I felt the heavy pain of the land

Entire forests burned, charred

Entire mountains with blackened scars

The leaves of the valley oaks dulled orange

Not from autumn skies

But from death

Demise

Destruction

Yet then there is this

An angel in the skies bringing life

Color

Salmon and periwinkle

Coral and slate

Her arms outspread to tell us all

All is not lost

In fact, Nothing is lost

The light shows nothing but goodness

Displaying it clearly

A clarion picture of sweet restoration

Suddenly all the pain turns to hope

Hope lifts up joy

Dancing together to the sounds of new life

The flowers are coming

The forests are coming

The animals are coming

Light and life, they are coming

Nothing can stop their singing, their songs

We have felt the dark stinging of smoke for so long

Yet here we are in the crimsons

The blue

The incredible hue

Of sheer beauty

Everything will be restored

Better, even better than ever before

The songs will always carry over the waters

11/3/18

Windowsill

I usually don't explain my poems, and this one today may seem so trivial and simple, but I must explain it. I live in Redding, CA where we just experienced one of the most devastating fires in California history. Entire neighborhood blocks are gone, burned to nothing but ash and rubble and chimneys. Burned out hulls of cars are still sitting in the garages, only recognizable by twisted and tortured ashen gray garage doors. The smoke is still thick and heavy. 38,000 people had to evacuate their homes. I had to gather my children around and tell them that we might lose everything we have.
So when we were allowed to return to our home, it was still there. I took time, though, to go to the places where the devastation was most significant, and I wept. I spent two nights preparing for the loss of everything, and I didn't lose anything. There are others who returned to a pile of ash where their beautiful homes had been. I know we often think of our "stuff" as just stuff but these places are where some of our most cherished memories are. These places are what we've poured out our hearts and souls into.
I hope I never forget the feeling I had when I first stepped into my home the day we returned. I can only describe it as an overwhelming gratitude. This is what I feebly attempted to capture, but as they always say, "I can't put it into words."  And that's ok. Those are the truly meaningful times of life. So, with that, here is "Windowsill."


Windowsill
I see my plants in the windowsill
And I am thankful
I walk across the wooden floors
Carpets maligned
I am thankful indeed
I pass some clothes the children have strewn on the floor
Gratefulness
These simple things of life aren’t smoke in the air
They are daily reminders that life is very good indeed
For that I am forever thankful
For the simple greenery in the windowsill
For the simple greenery in the windowsill
8/11/18