WALK IN THE RAIN

Now I shall walk in the rain . . . the friendly rain.
Down a long road until I find a lane
That leads through pastures to the ocean's shore.
Drinking the strength of earth through every pore.
Feeling the glad response of growing things
Hearing the muted hymn that Nature sings
When rain, the friendly rain brings to the earth
Song and a hope renewed and gentle mirth.
The grass takes on a lacquer of new green
While myriads of toad-stools dot the scene
Like exclamation points. Small brooklets spill
In waterfalls and rapids down each hill.
The world is glad again ... and so am I.
The rain beats on my face. I feel the dry
Parched skin relax to loose a gleeful smile
As I trudge on through slushy mile on mile.
I splash in mud and water to my knees
In reclkess pleasure. Wait! Is that a sneeze?
Good gosh! Great Scott! Oh, I say hab you
Ad aspirid? Sniff. Sniff. Ka-choo. Ka-CHOOOOOO!

MONARCH DAYS (For my parents who always encouraged me to dream!)

When I was six

Summers were made of

Fireflies and dandelions

And trading mud pies was a priority

With Tommy next door ...

We'd wish for sunny days

And chocolate ice cream

With sprinklers

He was my best friend

Each morning we would begin

A new adventure ...

Our pockets full of plums and crickets

Selling my father's tomatoes

In the driveway ...

I picked raspberries on Thursdays

And ran barefoot through dreams

That seemed a million miles away

And now I know ...

That it was the right thing

To let the lightning bugs go free.

AN OLD PRAYER AND A NEW ONE

Long ago I made a prayer

"Let me keep wonder in my heart."

I pray now ..."Let me be aware

To know and love a thousandth part

Of all the wonders of each hour

The pageantry of every day

To use each sense and super-sense

To contact life in such a way

That I may see a simple flower

And know its color, shape and scent

As though I were a part of it

And feel the Ultimate Intent

That forms each small exquisite part

To serve its small important place

To see a golden pollen grain

Or planet circling through space

And know that each in its own way

Is part of such a vast design

That human mind can never grasp

The whole of it nor trace the line

That leads the seeking human heart

Along the hidden purposed course

Oh, may I walk with perfect trust

The path that leads me to the Source."

I hold this wonder in my heart

And try each hour to be aware

To give my thanks and live my thanks

Articulate in act and prayer.

EVERY DAY

Every day is set apart
From other days
A jewel some remembering heart
May always keep.

Bargained for with care and bought
With reckoning
Borrowed out of time or caught
Upon the wing.

Battled for and dearly won
Given or lent
Freely lived from sun to sun
Freely spent.

Every day is for some heart
A day of days
A jewel life has set apart
To shine always.

FOR MY MOTHER'S EYES

Do you know how much
I am thinking of you, Mother mine?
How much I've longed to be there with you?
Do mothers' eyes have special pow'rs to
see between each line
and read their children's hearts?
I think they do.
Because the aching tenderness for you
that fills my breast
my gratefulness that God let me go
to you of all the mothers in the world
can't be expressed in words
at least not in any that I know.
Unless, invisible to all
except a mother's gaze
a halo loaned to them some way
and even then I don't know
how I dare attempt to coin
a pristine phrase
to rearrange the same old words again.
But, Mother, God has used the same
ingredients for years
and yet how diff'rent is
each newborn child
and from the same old formula
of joy and tears
a brand new life is suddenly compiled.
So, Mom, because I'm part of you
perhaps your eyes can see
a newer, deeper meaning
when I say
how proud I am of you
proud in profound humility
because you're mine
on this and ev'ry day.
__________________________________
My Mom died in 1998 but she is always in my heart!

BALANCE

Sometimes I write of streams, of forests green

of flowers on hills that still are home to me

I grieve at changes that have come to be

buildings and crowds where once

the snow lay clean ...

Yet would that land have seemed

so fair back then ...

if I'd been there without a horse to ride

without a dog to serve and guide?

How beautiful is home without a Friend?

Yes, I've faced sadness as each Friend passed on

I could have wept less if I hadn't cared

to hear a purr, to scratch a dog's warm ears ...

They walk carefree and fast who walk alone ...

Yet, thinking of the Best Friends who have shared

my life, I know the joy outweighed the tears.

IN QUIET REFLECTION

I don't suppose that anything I write
Will shake the world or change it overnight ...
But then that's true for most of us, it seems ...
We think great thoughts and cherish noble dreams ...
Of how to overcome all want and strife ...
And wish for everyone a good life ...
However, it could be that in these few lines ...
There might be here and there some pleasant signs ...
That life reflects our efforts and intent ...
In love and tears and awe and wonderment ...
But usually I'd think it quite worthwhile ...
If words of mine would bring a smile ...
Or even now and then have someone see ...
The wonderment of life - along with me.

I am a woman
yet my heart awaits the night
singing like a girl's ...

PATTERNS

Of all the fathers I recall

mine had to be the best of all ...

I loved to feel his hands in mine ...

when we washed up at supper time ...
and later, when we went upstairs ...

I wanted him to hear my prayers ...

He was the one to dim the light ...

when I said my last good-night.

And mother - being special too

quite understood my point of view ...

She knew that time brings changes and ...

would, one day, disengage my hand ...

from his, so I could then be free ...

to look for someone just for me ...

My choice (I know it made her glad)

turned out to be a lot like dad.

AUTUMN FESTIVAL

These friendly hills are now attired

To dance to tunes by winds inspired

Each golden tree will swing and sway

With oakbrush dressed another way

Confetti leaves will fill the air

Ripe apples will be royal fare

The harvest moon will shed its light

So dancing can go on all night.

But when the festival is through

The friendly hills find rest is due

And so in ermine robes they keep

A rendevous with healing sleep.

FOR A YOUNG DAUGHTER

You who love all little things
A humming bird with shiny wings
A violet, a blade of grass
Whispering when at dusk You pass
You who love each little note
Lilting from a young bird's throat
Who put into the sky at night
Tiny bits of golden light
Called stars, and in the sky by day
Wisps of clouds; to You I pray
Watch over her! I would not dare
Call your attention to this small prayer
But oh, she is so very small
You might not notice her at all!
___________________________________
I wrote this poem when my daughter was a little girl ... she just recently got married ...