Winter Wind

The rush of the wind engulfs the house, window panes rattle as the invisible assault grows stronger. The last few remnants of summer are sent swirling from now barren branches through the cold air. Ominous shadows of sharp slender fingers dance across the ground beneath the street light as tree limbs tremble in the gusts. Leaves and branches clatter over the roof in the darkness adding to the anxiety of the night.

The sounds outside build in rolling crescendos scattering nature’s debris against the brick and mortar, sounding like a barrage of lethal pellets. And then silence for a few moments until another raucous wave attacks. Over and over it repeats the cycle, seeming to never have an end. Rumbling and reverberating around the house. As you search out the front window it is indistinguishable, unseen as it batters the walls of the structure.

 An air of uneasiness fills the room; apprehension about the strength of your sanctuary grows. The domination, the power seems over whelming. The inability to influence, to affect any change or moderation gives rise to increased trepidation. Forced to listen again and again as it over takes the house. Nowhere to hide? No secure corner?

          Time to pull the comforter close and tight, a shroud of warmth and security that will hopefully see you safely through the blustery night - to meet the dawn as it breaks still and quiet.

2 Rocks

A few decades ago I wrote a poem based on an experience I had as a grade school teacher supervising the morning playground. A young man had found a special rock amongst the tens of thousands that lay across the play area. I watched as he squatted close to the ground, careful not to scuff the knees of his “school” jeans. He fondled the misshapen object, holding it up to his eye and then at arm’s length. Pushing it through the air like an airplane and crashing it to the ground. He continued to play with his new found treasure until the bell rang. He moved slowly to the end of the line outside his classroom still holding it tightly in his fist. When he reached the doorway his teacher took it from him. She tossed the rock back into the playground as she ushered him inside, his head turned over his shoulder to try and find it again in the sea of gravel.

The Rock

Patiently waiting throughout time,
Layered textures, smooth yet jagged,
Secure in its lonely place.
Finally lifted from the cold earthy mass,
Flecks of crystals and colors,
Admired by warm young hands...
First a fish, then a meteor, maybe a man or?
Carried home like an egg,
Tucked carefully in a jacket pocket,
Caressed by small fingers,
Desired for its magic...
"That's dirty, go wash your hands!"
Cast aside, back to the earth
Alone again, dying...       

I tucked the writing away not thinking much about it for a very long time. Years later a week or so after my father passed away I was given the task of sorting through his things. That included a small package of the items that were in his pockets when he was admitted to the hospital. As I dutifully spread them across his dresser something unexpectedly appeared among the keys and coins. It was a small rock; nothing special, certainly not a gemstone, not part of a keychain or anything explainable. I examined it for a few minutes; its smooth surface, delicate veining and nondescript shape. Holding it in my hand I tried to make sense of it. And then I remembered the young boy and his rock. This one had succeeded where his had failed. So I wrote a second poem – Dad’s Rock.

Dad’s Rock

Found among his pocket’s contents

Veined with colors and sparkling crystals

Smooth and shiny from wear

No particular shape, No particular value

Why is it here? Where did it come from?

What connects this piece of earth to him?

Calloused hands had held and caressed its shape,

Why? A good luck charm perhaps

Kept tucked in his pocket, for how long?

What magic did it bring?

I’ll hold it as he must have held it,

I’ll keep it safe, as he did

It’s part of him…

Now it’s part of me too…

I still have his rock. I don’t carry it every day, I save it’s for magic for special days. When I do, I find myself drawn to it, holding it tightly in my hand or rubbing its glossy surface. My mind often turns to trying to decipher its mystery to no avail. It is a connection that I will never understand, but one that I will covet as he did. It makes me happy that once he found it and enjoyed its power that it wasn’t cast aside by someone who wouldn’t have understood.

Find a rock of your own… actually it doesn't have to be a rock. It could be just a metaphor for those things in your life that bring you joy, happiness or love. When you find them, keep them close, nurture them, caress them… let them do their magic!

New Year's Resolution

It’s that time of year – the end! Time for most people to reflect on what’s happened in their life over the last 12 months. Time for them to resolve to do better, or more, or less in the coming year and make a list of those resolutions. I wrote something a while back about birthdays to a friend of mine that I think is just as fitting for the New Year.

After a certain time of life some people look at the New Year as not so much about recognizing their experiences over the past year as having just “survived” another one. They take stock of their present situation and measure it against some scale or against their friends’ or against the dreams they’ve held on to over the past year. Most come up short, seeing only the material things or lack of them.

I think that New Year's is the time to look inside; how have you grown over the last year? Did you learn new things, meet new people, celebrate each day? What experiences have you had that you can keep as cherished memories? What do you know about yourself today that you didn’t know a year ago; good or bad? What or who made a difference in your life? What have you accomplished that no one, not even you took the time to pat yourself on the back for achieving? Look at the small things that happened each day – they’re what life is made of – not just the “big” events. Heck, just staying healthy, working your job or keeping a close friend can be a major achievement! What brought a smile to your face? Have you kept in touch with friends – your real friends? Did you step out of your way to help someone, do something that made you feel good, feel alive, feel a part of the world around you?

It’s also the time to look ahead… What do you want to do that you haven’t? What’s new in the world around you that you could or should learn more about? Add to your life’s experience; enrich it in as many ways as you can! Plan to enjoy every day of the coming year to its fullest. Sure it may not happen each and every day, but if you don’t plan for it, it certainly won’t happen. Plan time for YOU! Dream a little – not little dreams – they have no power. Use your imagination, envision the most great and glorious happenings, in them is the foundation for creating your reality. And then do what you can to make them happen!

Celebrate the coming New Year not by counting the past year of lost promises and opportunities. Celebrate it like the day you were born – the day that you had a seemingly immeasurable number of days ahead of you as a gift, a gift of time. Each day’s sunrise after that first one continues to give you that gift – no matter how many have passed. Each new day presents that opportunity for you to grow; in mind, in body, in spirit! So resolve to enjoy each day and look forward to the potential of enjoying a whole year full of new days!