obedience plant

monday

sunday

late august

Everywhere the cobwebs stretch

reminding us that august is drawing to a close.

sunbeams

Yesternight's tempest has exhausted itself

and morning rays stretch through coniferous boughs,

as creation unbends and reaches upward.

Silver droplets still dangling in the trees

are gently loosened by the breezes

and the grass is drenched beneath bare feet.

Storms may blow wild and leave their scars

but Light breaks through without fail

and we dance again in sunbeams.

friday at opa's

Sometimes we take life slow and watch the cicada emerge from translucent skin,

and sit around with dinner plates on our laps.

sunday

C.S. Lewis said, "You don't have a soul...you are a soul, and you have a body".

And that makes all the difference.

Life is eternal.

Amazing.

wednesday's wind

The wind tosses yellow against the green,

and white and greys are cleared from the blue.

Sunday's message comes to mind. Christ teaches us to live in love. Our faith in Him gives hope. Love remains eternally, whereas faith and hope will become a seeing and a fulfillment. Amazing!

At bedtime a little boy wonders what Oma is doing now. Is she talking to Jesus? Does she have all her questions answered; does she know what the first language was?

And I wonder too....

Dearest mom what do you see, what do you know? I know that she is blessed and that she is happy beyond imagination. I know that earthly shortcomings have vanished.

But still, I wonder, as I would wonder if she was on an earthly vacation, what she is doing at the moment. And I wish I could just hear a little message, just read a little note.

And I miss her.

tuesday

Last fall I forgot to dig the bulbs up, this summer they bloom again,

despite my forgetfulness. Perhaps out of spite.

monday

sunday

thursday

Color explodes from the hollyhocks that have been shared around the neighborhood for decades.

wednesday

twenty-one

Where do the days go when a child slips from wide eyed babe to bright eyed woman?

Time on its relentless march with only change in it's trail. Children grow and Omas go, and nothing, no nothing, stays the same. Summer is slipping by just as the moments tick beyond reach. The now precariously perched.

Today I missed mom. It is the first time she has missed Maria's birthday. Reality is trying to peek into the packaged grief.

tuesday