Sunday, April 18, 2010

Some More Playing with Poetry

Living Among the Dead (take two)

Long the lines like veins entwining
Splay across the leafs of time.
Some enlivening, some refining
Long since past their scripted prime.

Flows the metre of the heartbeat
Pulse the syntax of the sage.
Courageous love and mercy meet
On some inked or printed page.

Quick the rhythm of inward breath
Marks the sound, the sign of life.
Wisdom stands ‘gainst folly’s death
Speaking peace through pain and strife.

So too the poetry of sages lends their substance in our time.
There we reap the depth of ages, coursing through a verse of rhyme.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Spring Time Planting

There are a few plants I've babied from infancy to toddler-hood and a few I have just picked up at my local plant store. My avocado and oak trees are the ones I've babied. They've been anticipating spring for a while now and have been antsy for a bigger pot to grow up in. The avocado tree was an experiment that Joanna and I tinkered with last spring by simply buying an avocado from Kroger, taking out the seed, helping it sprout, and then planting it. Talk about fascinating! I had no idea it was that simple. Now, if it ever lives to bear fruit that'll be a miracle, but I certainly have enjoyed the process even if it doesn't. The oak tree came from a small newly sprouted acorn in the Wilbur's back yard about two years ago. It was all but dead several months ago yet I couldn't bear to get rid of it. Then one day I looked down to discover the smallest speck of green that was ever visible to the naked eye--not even the beginnings of a leaf mind you, just a speck--and I said, "Ha, I knew you'd make it!" And so it has. Whether or not it will ever grow grand and stately enough to be considered as a candidate to replace an oaken beam in some parish church or school of learning, well, that too would be a miracle, but I certainly have enjoyed the process.

And then there are my new additions, not nurtured by my own hand until this point. I have no idea where they initially came from, but they have come to rest in my keeping. They have provided me with a bit of instant gratification, something I have not earned but nevertheless get to be the beneficiary of. These newcomers--Celosia, Verbena, Bacopa, Petunia, and Dusty Miller--will require just as much attention as those toddler trees that have been with me so long. But isn't that just like spring to be both a continual reminder of the old and yet be a provision of hope with all things new. Who knows what will become of this newness, but I certainly am enjoying the process.