Skip navigation

Monthly Archives: January 2010

Advertisements

out my window are ten million and twelve falling flakes, some the size of whispers and some of screams.  i awoke to a world in the tones of an old photograph with edges that have seen the fingers of generations.  there is something magical about the snow, something magical about the silence, the stillness, the fury.  in the middle of my black and white photograph there is a red bird- a red cardinal.  he came to eat sunflowers and seeds and hide in the pine from the dancing flakes.  the cardinal made me think of mother in the springtime when she saw the first red beauty- i pray i am able to retain in my soul pure joy for the animals of this creation.  i am blessed to have not one woman in my life who loves the animals but two- two mothers.  praise God for this beautiful creation over which he holds a steady hand, praise God for the red in the black and white, praise God for mothers who love us unconditionally.  just for the visit from the little red bird, i am happy that it snowed.

the sky is sparkling

with leftover confetti

from heaven

you are mistaken

for your tears do not fall unnoticed onto untilled soil

they first pass through the corners of my glass eyes leaving through lashes.

your pain empties out not only the deepest heart cavities you hold

it takes aim at my heart stings in the same whisper.

little glass of half lived dreams and sparrows fallen feathers

i swim within you

saving broken seashells.

summer gave way to drifting leaves of auburn and charcoal brown

which prepared the trees to bear the weight of snow white and frozen breath

all to prepare the bulbs to poke their little heads up from their slumber

and baby got big with the passing of the breeze

you and i- we wear boots,

but really we prefer

to run barefoot with dirt kissing soles of passing steps

grass reaching up to tickle little ankles

heartbeat of the earth meeting our own bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum

this mess is my fishbowl

glass walls, no corners in which to hide

an opening above me i will never use

for i was not given the gift of flight

so i hit my head again and again on a wall i cannot see

one i’m not quite sure is even there.

my head aches

there is no skin left on my nose

my spine is colored red

it does not matter how old i get or what i experience in this life

ice cream makes me fell like i am reaching into the freezer digging for the perfect flavor

next to endless bags of blueberries.

love you daddy and mommy

david and montana’s newest member of the family