A Winter World

New Orleans in winter with it's many delights,
The food, the passions, the sounds, the sights.
The streetcar rumbling along the track
Calls the city's children to please come back.
Church bells ring out three times a day,
Reminding us to give thanks, ponder, and pray.

In a courtyard, on St. Charles Avenue,
There's a world shared with the blessed few,
The beauty of winter roses in bloom,
The scent of the Sweet Olive's perfume.
Sasanquas are still gracing our eyes
With the winter gardens' most special prize.
The Crepe Myrtle is a flirty tree,
With no winter bark, she's a sight to see,
Enticing with her bare lacy arms
Come June, she'll display all of her charms.
In a secret corner, a magnolia or two
Will scent the summer air with her lemony brew.
Azaleas abound, though they're not in bloom
Dark green a backdrop for the colors coming soon.

People passing in the streets
Saying hello to all one meets.
This city throbs with love for life
Beneath the scars of her ongoing strife.
I want to be here as she rewrites her story
And this Dame in Distress recovers her glory.

Who Knows Where Life Will Lead Me

I've been feeling very conflicted about returning to the snow country of Coker Creek. We have some business to which we have to attend up there, but I'm very uncomfortable about trying to get emergency medical care during periods of being snow bound. Now I have a good excuse for not going home just yet, but I'll be close enough to possibly come for a visit for a snow-free day or two. Of course, we all know I don't overnight in the forest without my man, but I may make an exception if one of my Atlanta girls will accompany me.

My governor's mansion's chef friend in Atlanta tore up the muscles and tendons in her right arm when she fell on Christmas day. Seeing as she's pretty incapacitated and needing surgery, I've decided to accept her offer to come stay with her at her Atlanta area home for a few weeks. Included in this time will be providing chauffeur services to her and her mom for their before-the-diagnosis scheduled post-op trip to Florida.

While in Florida, my friend will accept her recently deceased husband's award for his work in establishing safety standards for residential window washers at the annual window cleaners convention. Can I be any more selfless than to move in with a renowned chef in a non-snow bound city, and go for a dead-of-winter trip to Florida with a best buddy?

My many-talented man is probably going to stay in New Orleans helping manage the refurbishing of a PT boat for the World War II Museum. The project director's wife is having multiple cancer surgeries, so I may just travel north without my Richard. I may be crazy leaving my man alone in the City of Sin, but I sure like leaving him in the hands of a bunch of boat builders better than with my widow women friends in the forest. I'd hate for them to get to used to having his talents around their houses and decide to keep him for their very own.

Who knows where life will lead me next. All these people in my life certainly make for many adventures.

Whole Again

It seems to me that we are meant to see
The Almighty as The Creator of our history.
Since time began for woman and for man
We've been part of a master plan.

We know we've strayed and pulled apart
The world that portrays Creation's heart.
Isn't it time we seek the fear to end,
And focus on ways to help our earth to mend?

Let's begin by confessing to sisters and brothers
The ways that we know we've wronged each other.
Open our hearts to becoming, once more, one;
In The Holy Spirit we're daughters and sons.

We're the children of Creation's light most pure,
Striving to find the eternal cure
For our turning from The Light in our arrogance.
Each of us must now seek to mend the broken fence.

We are not meant to look and talk the same;
We are sent to gather the well and the lame.
The common call of Eternal Peace,
We must pray to find a way to release.

Let us send it out on wings of doves,
With a message of Infinite Saving Love.
Let's share our joy and absorb others' pain,
So with all Creation we may be whole again.

Rejection and Resetting

Why do our babies fight us when they don't need us anymore;
Can't they say, "I'll call you" and gently close the door?
Why do they act as if they always knew how to walk?
Are words of angry rejection why they were taught to talk?

Dare I take the chance of finally saying, "No more";
To find out what values bind us at our core?
Love is not a feeling; it's action and a bond,
I can deeply love a person of whom I don't feel fond.

It seems that when we have opened our souls to our friends,
The relationships are not strengthened; rather, they're bound to end.
The pupa can't become a butterfly without being set free.
I pray that the reset button leads the butterflies back to me.

Sometimes I'm told that I make my own hell,
A lightless dungeon in which I often dwell.
I always see a glimmer, no matter how far away.
When the darkness scares me, I grab a friend and pray.

All The Love Has Leaked Out

Sometimes I see lives where all the love has leaked out.
I'm not sure where it began or what it's all about;
All I know is that at some point, what was there is gone,
Leaving everyone who loves both people feeling so forlorn.
What can we do to help those who are searching in the dark?
How can we help them reignite their relationship spark?
I think that we can only look back at their younger selves,
Hoping to find the sweetness that in every baby dwells.
Push the reset button to help them heal the pain;
Assist them and their loved ones to find their purity again.

Change and Choices

I really don't know what to say
About our continuing to be away,
Except that it became impossible
For my love and me to prolong our stay.

I tried so hard to to be content;
For this was where we had been sent.
But I couldn't keep the sense of peace
That, to me, was obviously lent.

I yearned for my people and my land
That most clearly had left their brands.
Upon my flesh and on my soul,
I felt that they had kept their hands.

History shared is such a strong bond;
It lasts our lifetimes and beyond.
These people here help me to see
That love is more than feeling fond.

It is becoming a part of me
As my true self comes to be,
The Holy Spirits that light my way
And give me a sense of being free.

Free to fly with my strongest wings,
And to listen as The Spirit sings,
The stabilizer in my soaring
Like the tail on a kite brings.

I wish that I could take all I know
To the world where I love to go.
But the path is not all magic carpet ride;
Sometimes I land with a crushing blow.

The time has come to make a choice:
Which one is the strongest voice,
The friends that give us space to rest,
Or those with whom our souls rejoice?

Proceeding to Pray

I've had very little time to write
Because everything has become a fight.
A fight to help my friend's depression,
Made worse by her husband's and sons' oppression;
A fight with attorneys who give opinions,
Before all the facts to them are given;
A fight to find a place to rent
Because on a yard our minds are bent.

A fight to make the museum understand
That we truly love lending a hand;
But we'd like a bit of consideration
For the tolls that our help is taking:
Time away from friends and family,
And travel doesn't come for free.
We have asked, and it would be grand
If from museum any payment was planned.

I'm not complaining; I'm trying to trust
That all we need will come to us
After all, it's very easy to see
That what we need usually comes to be.
But the waiting can be such a chore;
I'm used to pushing for faster and more.
I must calm down and proceed to pray
For guidance on what I'm to do each day.