Shadow

Shadow
shades me in cool,
veils me in jewels,
hushes my fusses,
wraps me away
to end of the day-
nightfall!

I’m Apt to Adapt

I’m apt to adapt
When slapped by an app
That raps and raves
Upon my brave behind:
Adept!
Project!
Accept!

Line

Line

My 3 year old grand-daughter
draws her wind-swept lines
sweeping over paper fibers
airborne.
No fences, enclosures, barriers for her!
ET takes flight
in her hand!
Spirit,,,
Not concrete,
But the breath:
Pranha ,,,
from the Buddha Child!

Jeanne Poland

The Language of Affection

Owen, my son
Of 36 years
Used to sit on my lap
(for only a second)
When he was twenty.
Safe and home –
Counting on me.

Years later, he
Carried his father
Frail from mesothelioma
(whenever necessary)

Yesterday
He advised me
That his 3 year old daughter
Annika
Would be very upset
If I thought she ate all the chocolates,
Without permission.

She was reassured
Listening to Poppa tell me
Her feelings if I thought her sneaky.

Then today
After enjoying one chocolate,
She deposited the wrapping in my hand.
Evidence that all
Was understood:
The trust-
The certainty-
The affection-

The attention to details!

Gut

Birds peck:
Swallow whole!

Guts discern:
Know or throw!

Udders too
Hold or flow!

We perceive:
Own or loan!

Grasp or pass:
Seed or stone!

Listen well:
All guts tell!

Trust

Trust comes in tiny bites,
samples
savored by the tongue.

Not too hot
or bitter;
cloying
or ephemeral.

Trusts can be
legal puzzles
biting at your gut…
bleeding through.

Or confidences,
ennobling and
intimate.

But to last,
trust needs to enter
on tip-toe.
“til you know
it flows
whole –
enriching you
as it goes.

Welcome trust.
It is the strength in wishing,
the bend in believing,
the breath in loving!

A Living treasure!

ABC…XYZ

Today
when frayed,
I find comfort
in filing
alphabetically.

Texting
has changed
from letters to code…
u know?
We r
zooming by
frazzling words
to burnt signs:
🙂

Gone is
the crescendo
in the middle-
Mmmmmmmmm?

How I love my
ABC’s,
initials,
and the finality of
XY&Z!

Hope

I thought
I generated faith
hope
and charity
each day!

But NOW
I know!

Each morn
they’re placed
in a basket:
freshly picked flowers,
from the Spirit’s garden

JUST FOR ME!

Seeds of grace!

Out of the Tumbler

Stones from the tumbler
roll smoothly
in the hand;
warm the skin
nestle in.

I’m a tumbler stone
worn down
rounded
cuddley…
after 71 years.

No longer sharp edged:
cutting
pointing
directing.

Now,
circumspect
with shiny wisdom surface.

Wisdom
gathered
by rolling,
rushing in the stream,
open to the sun.

Now
I
run
to
ash.

Surrender to my transformation.

Welcome it!

Bugs

My son, three year old granddaughter, and one year old grandson like to construct tinker-toy type bugs when they visit.
My son is grand with rhyme:

The rachety crab pincers pinching away
Comes crawling and biting: big bug;
His cracking loud claws clang and bang
In your ear aiming viciously close to your mug!

He’s not come to hug; he’s a thug from the rug.
Beware child! His bite and his pinch
Escape from this thug; keep your mug far away
Or you’ll end in his slicing tight clinch!

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