We are in Florida, stealing away for a few days of respite. It rained today. I love the rain. I posted this poem sometime ago, but am re-posting. I guess it is how I feel today with the rain.
Inspirational Artist
“Hand with the Pencil” by Seth Chwast I stumbled upon an intriguing article about Seth Chwast, a talented artist with autism. His artistic renderings are in high demand. If you believe in the power of self expression through art, you will be inspired by his story. Take a peek here.
haiku: language to a writer
**************** Language to a writer is rare–each word like cellared, reserved wine. ******************* The writer plummets the river of language for nugget and gemstone.
Train Memory
In the barrenness and cold of winter, I traveled for the first time to Russia. I wrote this poem on a Soviet train as we wound through the Russian woods and farmland from St. Petersburg to Moscow. My first train ride through the former Soviet Union overflowed with the romance of high adventure, set against the winterscape of the…
Old Woolen Red Coverlet
I wrote this poem in St. Petersburg, Russia, after hearing an old Russian soldier play marches on his accordion in the square. On his wool coat, he had pinned dozens of military medals he had won fighting for the ideals of Mother Russia.
haiku: unexpected
Aurora Borealis ******************** Out of the blue, a torrential wave overwhelmed unexpectedly. ********************* So passionate and deep and sweet the love that I flung open my heart. *********************
Something Irrevocable
Since my father-in-law passed away before Christmas, I have been on a journey of embracing the reality of his death, walking through the process of grief, and praying for acceptance and healing on the otherside. Here are a three thoughts on grief.
Mere Color
“For JP2” by Yoram Raanan “Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways.” – Oscar Wilde
haiku: i miss you already
*************** It wasn’t enough– a fleeting spark–a second to say “I love you.” ****************** It wasn’t enough– just a glance to notice the unnoticeable.
Mr. Sick
Before I lived abroad, before I had a daughter, before I was a pastor’s wife, before I was married, before I lived on a kibbutz in Israel, I worked as a nurse–for many years–in Colorado and then Texas. I graduated from Porter Memorial Hospital in Denver, so many years ago I don’t care to remember…
Bonnie Saul Wilks 