Photos by Karl Olinger
Seagulls are soaring in today’s storm. The daffodils are the sun. And the house feels like a safe boat, anchored to the land. Letters to write. Poems to read. Dishes to put away.
Sometimes we wonder how we got through certain stretches of time. For me, books are an anchor. Libraries and bookstores are where I love to go. “In the beginning was the Word,” as John’s Gospel begins.
I don’t remember learning to read, and I know this is a blessing. When did the garden become so colorful again? When did new happiness arrive? It’s not an even process. There is mystery in faith and growth. We keep reaching out too; and there is work involved in healing as well, in my experience.
One thing I have learned is that flexibility is an important part of happiness. Many things have not gone as I had planned or hoped. Yet I feel God’s plan is unfolding, and the life He has given me is the only one I want.
Today does not feel like May. But it surely is.
and mother’s mother
and assorted saints
of their generations
And I remember:
Reprinted here with Win’s permission. From her book: “Don’t Call Me Spry:” Creative Possibilities for Later Life. Harold Shaw Publishers. 1990.
Photo of Lake Michigan by Karl Olinger.
from the sand
corn an inch tall
Published in SMILE (2009; 2010) and BELL’S LETTERS POET (2010).
By God’s grace, following her passing in 2004, a new chapter has grown and is growing. It is different and beautiful in its own way.
Mom loved the King James Version of the Bible.
The following seems to fit with this Post.
LORD, my heart is not haughty,
nor mine eyes lofty:
neither do I exercise myself in great matters,
or in things too high for me.
Surely I have behaved and quieted myself,
as a child that is weaned of his mother:
my soul is even as a weaned child.
Psalm 131: 1-2 (KJV)