All Love for My Hero

MomDadWalkDownAisle

Oh

I remember well

The beautiful young man

Standing in the front room

Of the Rodgers Park Jewish

Community Center

One June morning in

1954

I have come there

To be a counselor

In the Center’s summer day camp

A job I’m not overly excited

About taking

Only here because a college friend

Tells me there’s an opening for a

Girl counselor     and there isn’t any

Other summer jobs I know of

To apply for

Oh yes

I walk in and there he is

Standing right smack in front

Of me

I look up into a pair of very

Blue eyes

In a face smiling down at me

With beautiful     white     even teeth

He wears a white tee shirt

The sleeves rolled up once

His arms tanned     and not bulging

With muscles     just right

I don’t remember anything else of that

Day     our first meeting

Except that first day unbeknownst

To me     is the blessed first day of

Sixty-two wonderful years     sixty of them

In marriage

 

Thank you God     thank you Stephen

And you beloved family

Beloved friends

For blessing us     honoring us

By coming to be with us

As we celebrate our marriage

Of sixty blessed years

 

Thank you     Thank you     Thank you

MomDadVows

Beyond Redemption

yelling

Across the sky

Blue    blue

As my grandfather’s

Eyes

Clouds    white as angel wings

Might be

Undefined edges

Soft as baby hair

Float slowly in a promenade

Above my head

Eyes pull the scene

Into a place of

Remembering

I will draw it out

Create protection

Against the harshness

Of these times

Words    threats     accusations

Scatter like scraps of waste

Paper

That litter     soil     what is

Left

Of our political innocence

And I tell you this

There is a cancer

In the gut of the

Body Politic

It must be removed

Cut away

Before it will metastasize

Beyond    redemption

*photo credit

Numbers

th

Fifty odd years ago

I find

Six dining room chairs

Made from humble oak

In the crowded basement

Of a secondhand store

In Kenosha Wisconsin

They accompany me

To five different houses

A sixth chair left behind

When it cracks in half

In house number three

 

Four children of my heart

Sit on these chairs

All through their childhoods

And even today

Now their own children

Sit on them too

 

They are not new

These six oak dining room

Chairs

When I pick them out

From myriad others

I wonder

Where    when

Were they created

And by whom

They deserve noble stories

Of grand houses     mansions

But no     they are only

Humble oak

I envision them in a home

Where there is love

Where they surround

A beautifully dressed table

Laden with favorite dishes

Prepared by loving hands

But how to explain

The crowded basement

Of a secondhand store

In Kenosha Wisconsin

 

The chairs come with a

Table

It too from humble oak

With five extension leaves

That make me feel ecstatic

I stuff everything into the back of

Big Blue

My loyal station wagon

Carry them home

All for the price of

Twenty-five dollars

 

Holiday     birthday

Ordinary day dinners

Are eaten off the table

Homework cried over

Papers scattered across its

Top

My children travel the years

Sitting on these chairs

Around the table

Legs grown longer     appetites stronger

Until they leave     come back

Leave again

While he and I

The chairs     the table

Remain

photo credit

 

Pain . . .

angel-sky-cloud-shape-37064137

. . .  you enter uninvited

You disrespect boundaries

You invade sacred spaces

Many questions

Surround you     Pain

Mysteries     too

Pain     you are a creator

Of feelings

I feel you

When I look at a photograph

Of a starving child

Her eyes have become

Too large for her face

Deep sadness leaks

Through the camera’s lens

Into my heart

 

Pain

You cross borders

With no visa

You enter the bodies

Of living beings

You linger

You vanish

You invade our minds

Pain

Our thoughts feel

Your presence

Are able to multiply

Your effects

Upon us

Until we learn

To take control

Of your intentions

For thoughts follow you

Pain

Down the corridors

Of time

 

As for me

I welcome you     Pain

You teach me to understand

The pain of others

To know empathy     compassion

To love this world

That lives with so much pain

I can deal with you

Pain

Take you for what you

Are

Lessons for my life

Not easy     Pain

Soul work never

Is

photo credit

Angel Wind

th

I call to you

Blow away storms

That rise at times

Inside me

Blow them away

Away

Dark clouds

Dark    dark

Surround my heart’s

Cavity

They drift upwards

Fill my mind

Down again

To cover my organs

Invade my body’s

Cells

Push Spirit’s Light

Away     away

While I live unaware

The calamities

Storm tossed emotions

Evoke

 

Something unknown then

Arrives

A voice speaks to me

I hear without ears

That hear

Feel it like the warmth

Of a blanket wrapped around

Me

 

It says

“Ask and it shall be given”

I ask

 

And the Angel Wind

Comes

Blows the storms

That rise inside me

Out to sea

Blows them into the ether

Vanishing like the morning

Mist

Away    away

To understand

Now

In naked clarity

The Angel Wind

Is me

*photo credit

 

 

 

The Sycamore Tree

Cristo_Redentor_Rio_de_Janeiro_4

The Sycamore tree

My friend

Lives through season

After season

In my backyard

Her leaves drop slowly

This fall into winter season

And I feel her strength

Withstanding drought

But now leaves that

Remain

Are scarce     dry     yellowed

As they wait to drop

To the ground

I look up into the sculpture

Of her near naked branches

Branches stretched outward

Like arms

A vision for me

Of the Cristo Redentor

On the mountain top

In Rio

Of my beloved’s embrace

His wide open arms

My sanctuary

My refuge     my vision of love

Loving

Sycamore’s gift to

Me

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photo credit 1
photo credit 2

Salinas

images

from the documentary, East of Salinas

Child
My country labels you
Undocumented
You are not alone
Dear one
There are two million
Undocumented children
Who like you
Live in shadow
Threats of deportation
Back to Mexico
Back to from wherever
Your parents brought you
Possibilities of separation
Of families
Torn asunder
Lives lived on the edge of
Disaster

 

Child
You are made in the
Image
The likeness of the
Divine
You are precious to me
As is every child
Everywhere

 

I want for you
To live with no fear
Playing outside your house
In fullness of the sun’s light
Not inside with window shades
Down
Curtains closed
To keep you from being seen
By Police     Border Patrol
No questions asked
No dangerous answers
Given
While your parents work
Long hot hours
In the fields picking
Our vegetables

 

I ask myself this
Question
Are we
Land of the Free
Home of the Brave
Truly    are we

Save

Terrence

homeless-rain

Finally

Rain comes

Sky dark with clouds

Holding water

Release it in sheets

That slant sideways

Onto the street

Out my kitchen

Window

 

It is to celebrate

This rain

That has not watered

Us

For many months

With so generous

An amount

I watch it

Give thanks for

It

Then feeling gratitude

For being warm

Being dry

Inside my own

Home

My thoughts flash

To Terrence

Living on the grass

With his possessions

Above Swamis Beach

Whom I meet

One beautiful afternoon

When sprays of white

Appear    disappear

Appear again

Far out in the ocean

From the gray whales

On their journey south

To Baja

 

Where is Terrance now

Where are the homeless

Where can they go

To be warm

Be dry

Be safe

 

Later in the night

Rain pounds noisily

On the roof

Splashes against the bedroom

Windows

My thoughts harbor

The homeless

The children

And I tell myself

If you truly care

Find a way

Fortunate woman

Find a way

To help

view-to-south-from-swami

 

 

Super Blood Moon

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*

A faint glow of red

Barely visible

Through the top of the

Balsam pine

Tells me my eyes have found

The Super Blood Moon

Wait    wait now

For it to rise

Over the treetop

Into the naked sky

Watch the soft covering

Of her face

Slowly evaporate

As the sun

Far from my portion

Of earth

Moves on releasing her light

As the moon clothes herself

In brilliant white

 

This is a Super Blood Moon

A gift from Spirit

Her eclipse bringing a message

Of renewal     of transformation

First a covering     then a

Release

A familiar journey

From what has lain

So long

Deep inside me

Slowly to be let go

Now standing on an ordinary

Cement sidewalk

I am one with her

On this night of magic

Of mystery

As she draws me up

Draws me into the brilliant radiance

Of her glorious light     holy light

Light from nowhere on earth

 

Oh what message     what message

From All That Is

Comes with this Super Blood Moon

Only one’s soul     only a soul

Can answer

*photo credit: Stella Blumberg

Dry Spell

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written spring 2015

I have lost the magic

In my words

As I’ve lost the moon

The stars are gone

From my portion of sky

I grieve them all

 

You and I once watched

The sun as it sank

Behind the Jemez Mountains

In New Mexico

Leaving a glorious fire

Of orange     of gold

Of deep crimson

That reached into clouds

High above     it’s descent

 

Where is Orion now

Where are the dippers

I search the indigo

Of early evening

Before windows in homes

Across El Camino Real

Reflect lamplight from inside them

So many streetlights

So many lit windows

My portion of sky

Is no longer mine

My words feel as tho

They’ve escaped into a

Starless sky

In a starless night


*photo credit