Gardens growing side by side
incarnate beauty with brilliant brightness
sharing color in life's shades of grey.
Powerful, positive, presence,
like a sunflower seeking suckling sun's rays,
calling forth life's light.
Gardens growing side by side.
Yours, well tilled with nurturing toil, in fed soil.
Nutrient sucking weeds discerning destructive,
pulled, giving life's light to budding blossoms uncovered.
Gardens growing side by side.
Mine, pale comparison,
with wild weeds deceptive.
I, from you,wise weeding woman,
learned to be an earth tender.
Pulling, old rooted weeds.
Discovering, my garden's beauty beneath,
like wild flowers under the forest's blanket.
Gardens growing side by side.
Sharing plots, poised and planted.
God the Gardener,"Grace."
Fed in freindship,
watered in Word,
growing in splendor.
Gardens growing side by side.
Yours, now, transplanted.
Love lingers,fertilizing my soul's soil,
with your eternal beauty.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Words worth pondering
A friend shared this thought with me after her brother died. They are the words of A. Powell Davies from his book, Prayers for Healing.
"When sorrow comes, let us accept it simply, as part of life. Let the heart be open to pain; let it be stretched by it. All the evidence we have says it is the better way. An open heart never grows bitter. Or if it does, it cannot remain so. In the desolate hour, there is an outcry; a clenching of the hands upon emptiness; a burning pain of bereavement; a weary ache of loss. but anguiish, like ecstasy is not forever. There comes a gentleness, a returning quietness, a restoring stillness. This, too is a door to life. Here, also, is a deepening of meaning-and it can lead to dedication; a going forward to the triumph of the soul, conquering of the wilderness and in the process will come a deepening inward knowledge that in the final reckoning all is well."
"When sorrow comes, let us accept it simply, as part of life. Let the heart be open to pain; let it be stretched by it. All the evidence we have says it is the better way. An open heart never grows bitter. Or if it does, it cannot remain so. In the desolate hour, there is an outcry; a clenching of the hands upon emptiness; a burning pain of bereavement; a weary ache of loss. but anguiish, like ecstasy is not forever. There comes a gentleness, a returning quietness, a restoring stillness. This, too is a door to life. Here, also, is a deepening of meaning-and it can lead to dedication; a going forward to the triumph of the soul, conquering of the wilderness and in the process will come a deepening inward knowledge that in the final reckoning all is well."
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Caregiving, The Paradox
Caregiving, it gives life.
Compassion shared,
patience granted,
empathy bestowed.
Life is given.
In hearing other's stories we are invited onto sacred ground.
Life is honored.
While engaging others, we encounter God.
Life is drained.
Caregiving, the paradox, it drains life.
Powerless to stop it, death comes defying our efforts.
Helpless to fix it, the pain of grief consumes.
Grief drains, questions plague, energy flees.
Life is paradox, death the teacher.
to celebrate simplicity,
to live the questions,
to embrace the essence.
Death, friend and foe, helps me,
to focus on the essentials;
faith, family, friends
to honor the Holy within and without
to cherish the gifts of living and loving
Compassion shared,
patience granted,
empathy bestowed.
Life is given.
In hearing other's stories we are invited onto sacred ground.
Life is honored.
While engaging others, we encounter God.
Life is drained.
Caregiving, the paradox, it drains life.
Powerless to stop it, death comes defying our efforts.
Helpless to fix it, the pain of grief consumes.
Grief drains, questions plague, energy flees.
Life is paradox, death the teacher.
to celebrate simplicity,
to live the questions,
to embrace the essence.
Death, friend and foe, helps me,
to focus on the essentials;
faith, family, friends
to honor the Holy within and without
to cherish the gifts of living and loving
Give sorrow words...
"Give sorrow words..." Shakespeare
Shakespeare certainly had a better grasp on the written word than I do, so maybe that is why I find it difficult to give sorrow words. Sometimes there are no words.
Shakespeare certainly had a better grasp on the written word than I do, so maybe that is why I find it difficult to give sorrow words. Sometimes there are no words.
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