Heaven’s covenant renews
Peace and joy for all!
Husband, it is time.
He walks ahead of my trudging animal;
his shoulders slump a bit
from the landing of my words.
The rope slackens when he stops. He asks,
“Are you sure?”
At my nod, he points
“Just ahead” to torches along the outskirts.
Innkeeper, it is time.
I watch him speak to the old hunched man;
his hands reach for coins
to place in eager wrinkled palms.
He returns at my breath hitch. He says,
As I nod, he wraps
“Soon, warmth” a blanket around my shoulders.
Mother, it is time.
I crouch in the posture of birth,
my belly hardens a final time to deliver
the promise by Gabriel.
I hear the cry. Joseph says,
“A man child.”
In my nod, he whispers,
“Emmanuel” a cloth around the baby.
This is a re-posting of something I wrote a few years ago. Merry Christmas!
It is imperceptible to the human eye
the patient glacial migration
of the simplest of creatures
these mosses and lichens
To which we pay no mind
Clinging to pruned playground oaks
rain-fed forest boulders
wind-swept suburban fences
these resilient sojourners
With legacy as old as stardust
Forests of mosses
with tiny stems and leaves
watered by heaven’s mist
pruned by seasonal whims
As nurtured by the supreme maker
fungal crusts and powdery scales
some posing as miniature leaves
orange, brown, white, lime
All patterned by the ancient of days
Their colonies moved by nature’s breath
to converge and disperse
over eons and generations
to settle adjacent and amidst
Such is a world at peace
Make haste, Abraham!
Your sons of many nations
Blaspheme the heavens!
Painting by Domenichino (Domenico Zampieri), Italian (1581–1641)
Oil on copper
Amid a major convention center, hotels, office buildings and parking garages is an anomalous yet fitting contrast to concrete and asphalt. The Fort Worth Water Gardens is indeed an oasis. sited to intersperse business and art, active and passive, work and play.
This 4.3-acre urban park was dedicated to the City of Fort Worth by the Amon G. Carter Foundation in 1974. Architects Philip Johnson and John Burgee juxtaposed three contrasting water canvasses woven together by tree-lined pathways. open grassy interludes and dramatic sculptures. Collectively, the three water features engage our senses, challenge our boundaries and delight our souls.
The Active Pool is certainly no pool. It is a series of angled waterfalls that form dizzying peaks and valleys. Compounding this visual overload is the incessant roar of cascading water, rhythmic in tune to uneven steps and echoing in deep crevices. Brave visitors, like my husband Richard, take a broken path just a few inches above the flowing water.
Just a few steps away is the contrasting Meditation Pool. Its still blue waters beckon you to calm your soul and reflect on the peaceful stillness. Whispering water gently pours over pebbled walls fronted by bald cypress trees.
The Aerating Pool is a delightful display of small water drops sprayed out of rows of illuminated fountains. This hissing pool is liquid pointillism in constant motion – glimmering, dancing.
The non-water features are equally creative and fun.
If you’re anywhere near the southern portion of Fort Worth, the Fort Worth Water Gardens is definitely a worthwhile day trip!
You appeared on a crisp spring morning
when honey bees descended on arugula flowers
that twinkled sunburst in the breeze
A little caterpillar whose gentle soul
was clothed in orange silk
fastened by thin black stripes
I asked you, “Child, where is your mother?”
but you blithely continued to nibble
on my tender lettuce and chard seedlings
I allowed your piracy of daily sustenance
anticipating the day you would grace my garden
with your whisper touch and weightless flutters
I guarded your motionless chrysalis
that belied metamorphosis about to unfold
your wings to fly where your spirit beckons
Though I have not seen you since your inaugural flight
I sometimes imagine you hovering near me
casting shadows of times that could have been
For Ben (April 30, 1960 to September 5, 2015)