Color Me Winter

 

Upside-down World

When what was and now is not happens in a wisp of a moment,

when friends become foes, exchanging their trust for biting and isolating words,

then it is plain to see that we are living in an upside-down world.

When conversations meant to break down barriers instead erect the worst kind of walls,

when what I see and what you see suddenly are

oddly at odds

to the vision once shared,

then it is pain to see that we are as much a part of this upside-down world as everyone we have observed from afar. Tut, tut, what a shame it was. And is.

We are in it, of it, and yearning for all to be made right.

What makes it worse is that the reflection is somewhat like what we hope for; but

in its rippling distortion and everchanging color, what’s hoped for seems like some cruel illusion.

Far off, unattainable, yet present enough to hunger the soul.

======================

Proverbs 13:12 (NLT)

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.

3-24-18

Once Again

These witchy trees, bare and lifeless, cold and leafless:

One might wonder where life has gone and if all hope is gone,

receded into the dark earth. But

in one moment, that gifted second,

a nub of green sprouts, a speck of promise appears, and the sleeper rises,

stretches to the sky. Renewal happens once again—

from death to life.

That these dormant praises in me would rise again, unchained.

That these sleeping sermons once more would reach my mouth that I may speak of Your wonder,

once again.

Perspective on Perspectives

Posted on April 24, 2012by apronheadlilly

(Peace Tower on Parliament Hill in Ottawa, scanned from 35 mm)

It’s all about how you look at things;
at least, that’s how I see it.
How do you see it?
It’s the Rorschach test of life–
how you view your world,
what you see that others don’t.
From the bottom looking up,
from the top looking down,
inside looking out,
outside looking in.
Grace should be a given
till we can see how others see
and understand the filters in their lives
through these pieces of wood in our own.

Sequoia '10

Seattle '10

Sequoia '11

Tahoe '10

Kaiser '11

Everywhere Tall Trees

Posted on February 29, 2012by apronheadlilly

Tahoe 10-11

The stretch to the sun, the stretch to the center of the earth, and the sheltering cool in between. Secret hidden places for treasures and firm holding branches—houses in the air. Feathery leaves trap mysteries in my mind and catapult them into the future.

Rows of stately soldiers guard country roads. Lonely isolates in flowering meadows stand moody, marking time in aloneness. Companion trees link arms with knowing glances, intimate breathings—sharing ground, sharing air.

Everywhere trees.

Solid oaks, assertive with chests puffed, mock gale winds. Supple birches, evanescent green and whispery white, sway and flex with storms. Up on the mountain, pines all buffed up bristly, dare intrusion, while maples filled with dripping sweets flaunt green today and fire red with tomorrow’s frost.

Down by the river, willows droop with tears from countless sorrows, long sucking fingers in the dirt. Alders hover close, leaning to the water’s edge to catch a vain glimpse reflected in dark deeps.

My apple tree offers sweet, sometimes wormy, fruit and a lofty perch. I retreat to write and meditate, pleading mother-calls unheeded. I weave dreams in the branches and trust secrets to the leaves.

No one else would understand.

On hot, steamy days, I hop shadow to shadow to cool my feet and cool my head.
Barefoot steps quick quick on hot packed dirt, but slow to freeze frame under sheltering tall trees, the long dance home in desperate darts and lingerings.

Aged elm branches spread a welcome for my childish floors and walls, my odds and ends.
Barely a whimper—long dagger nails pierce—sacrificial lamb.
I homestead in crooks and climbs with soda crackers and Jell-O tea—sweet communion.

Barked, brawny arms hold the rope that swings my feet to tippy touch the lowest leaves. Back and forth and back and forth with pumping legs and flagging hair, then jump! I’m flying! I land with a thud, all laughter and grass stains. Then, up again. I wind and wind and wind. Branches groan. I twirl and twirl and twirl, then stumble with drunken pleasure.

Everywhere tall trees. Leaves pressed brittle, photos captured, admiring peaceful pauses taken in busy days—

I breathe the memory and the now.

'10

Foster Park 10-11

Jackson Lake 10-11

Seattle 8-11

Sequoia 8-11

Tahoe 8-11

Kinda Thinkin'

I am kinda thinkin’ that the neighbor’s tree trimmer may have previously cut hair for new army recruits. Either that or these are Star Wars characters in hiding. What do you think?

James Jam

Count it all joy . . .
1, 2, 3, 4

when you fall into various trials,
5, 6, 7, 8

for you know that . . .
9, 10

Okay, I’m starting over.

You know that the testing of your faith . . .
1, 2, 3, 4

produces
5, 6, 7, 8

patience
9, 10!

Can I just skip to the “lack wisdom” and “ask God” part?
11, 12, 13, 14, 15

will receive the crown of life.
98, 99, 100!

Whew! Made it!

Oh, no, here it comes again. Count it all joy . . .
1, 2, 3, 4

when you fall . . .
5, 6, 7, 8        [sigh]

Beauty in Parking Lots

Beside POPEYES--and I didn't inhale!

Crop your life of the superfluous—
the lifeless concrete,
the ads and poles and  rushing commuters,
the shopping carts and litter and  lanes—
civilized clutter
that adds to the frenetic pace of mind traffic,
soul traffic.
Crop your vision of the irrelevant for just that wispy moment–
that one focused thin second that sees what others miss.

STARBUCKS DRIVE-THROUGH--and yes, I did inhale!!!

KASIER MEDICAL

COSTCO

SCHOOL

LOWES

More Bare Bones

There is something in the sparseness--
the sparse stretching to the sky,
the intertwining, community of bare bones,
waiting for green buds and fancy dresses.
Spare looks like loss,
but faith sees the bloom and fruit of what will be
in time.
Hope dresses bones in breezy longing.

The Bare Bones of Winter

The bare bones
witchy webbed against fomenting skies,
dormant
with barely a breathy promise of life:
Is your haunting silhouette a shadowy blight or a prayer upraised for spring?

Rock Tree

Rock rooted,
granite gripped—
foothold firm against
wind, rain, and frost’s bite;

alone,
the crisp cold shaking your branch—
barely a shadow maker;
strong,
no companions to break the force,
barely a bristle raker against
wind, rain, and frost's bite.   

Taking Pictures--A Happy Bill!

I almost called this blog "He loved me enough to stop at Starbucks."  For the coffee-drinker, no big deal; but for a non-coffee drinker husband to make a coffee stop for his poor headachy and addicted wife--well, let's just say that is definitely my love language!  Along with all the pit stops to snap photos, Kel definitely made our 38th anniversary jaunt to the ocean a pleasant day!

We stopped by the cabin which is not a cabin.  Kel's grandfather had built a cabin in the 1930s and added on a few rooms in bits and pieces over the years, in addition to planting fruit trees out front.  I remember the wonderful stone fireplace--the only heat.  Kel's mom has childhood memories there as does Kel, but we didn't go inside because it is now much changed with other attached buildings, and the trees are gone.  It was so different, we didn't want pictures.  I did snap these flowers out front, though.

Near the cabin is the park where in 1974 we spread the ashes of Noelle, our first child--stillborn.  In my memory, the park was small, rustic, and wooded.  This one is now much bigger with RV access at $125 a night.  The trees are original, and the ashes of her wee body are part of the top of the mountain.  But again--no pictures, except for some trees who witnessed all.  It's better looking up.  Things change.

We circled Casitas Lake, stopping for pictures.  Okay, I know it is a man-made lake, and it probably ticked off some environmentalists at the time, as well as some wooded creatures, but it is very pretty, nonetheless. 

Onward to Santa Barbara and the ocean.  We had our anniversary lunch at IHOP--big spenders!  :-)  But for healthfood nuts, if you're going to eat something unhealthful and non-organic, IHOP's not a bad place to sin.  Tasty and cheap!  (But no pictures!)

 

No picture of the Starbucks, though that was indeed momentous!  :-)  But one last stop in the farmlands to capture fall pumpkins in all their orange and ochre glory.