Colors and Sounds

Colors of  early Spring:
Daffidil yellow
new grass green
purple croscus
and tulip red.
Sounds of Spring:
Baby birds singing in
early morn
Gentle rain falling
like a toe tap dancing
when touching ground;
An afternoon wind
blowing through leaves
nature's music;
Hope abound

My Dream

I had a dream last night I was on the basketball court,  like in the days of my  early youth - pivoting to the left, pivoting to the right,  doing lay ups and shooting baskets .  Not  being very tall, the coach called me "Little One",  but quick and agile I moved the ball  like I was tall , and helped our team to score.  It was so long ago I  first learned to play; Girls baskeball still had a  'roving' guard.  This would be my favorite sport, from  elementary days all through high school. I loved playing basketball and being a basketball star.

Just as season's change, the sport of my dream changed, too - no longer on the basketball court, I was now holding a volleyball , standing behind the line ready to serve.  Like basketball, I played on a Volleyball team from the age of 12 , living and breathing every minute of it.  If basketball was my favorite sport, volleyball was a close second.  Still considered  the same short player, I wasn't picked for the team because of my height or being a good spiker, but  because I was good setter and very good server, placing the ball where I wanted it to go.  My body  strong. Athletic. Competitive. I was a good team player.

Then came mornng. I woke from my dream to  aching feet, a bad back and sore knees.  Slow to climb out of bed, I smiled anyway, thinking of  my dream and remembering   the day ...............

My Husband's Hands

After saying good bye to early morning guests, my husband and I   finish  up with a few routine chores, then meet  in our front room to sit quietly; Peaceful  and serene.  No music or sounds from the T.V., just our own voices if we choose to talk,  and time to listen to one another.  No hurry, no rush.  Sharing years together and knowing each other well,  we're not compelled to speak, but comfortable with our silence. 

Some days we sit on the sofa next to each other , reading a book or sharing a Bible verse.  This day Gary sits on the sofa alone,  while I sit on the chair, closer to the fire  opposite him.  I can tell he's lost in thought looking at the wooded  view through the window.  While he's looking at   the lake and trees, contemplating their natural beauty,  I look  at him, contemplating  the good man he is.

I observe his hands still  steady and strong; hands that lifted his  sons, encouraging them with words of wisdom and unconditional love.  Hands that have  embraced me , his wife of 32 years,  giving me strength whenever I've been anxious and  afraid. Hands so willing to help another, whether  friend or stranger - whenever they're in need.

I think how much I  admire this man who  believes a man's word is his bond, and lives life following that creed ,who places  hands together and bends a knee , giving thanks  to God for the blessing of  our family.

GOOD FRIDAY

They gathered along the rugged hill
not wanting to stare,
yet unable to look away
Some wept and quietly prayed;
Some gawked and mocked
and taunted the man
-both human and Divine
nailed upon the cross
the one they called,
" King of the Jews".
Some bowed  their head
afraid and ashamed
at what they had done;
Recognizing too late the
Son of Mary,
Son of David,
Son of God
At that moment
the sky turned dark
like charcoal,
the air stagnant and still
A  mighty wind
swept across the land
the heavens lashed out
with a thunderous noise;
The earth trembled; The angels cried
at  the Crucifixation of our  Lord