Writing Nest

The poem for a new year.
Our Prism

Our life is a prism
Casting a new light with every turn
Our choices reflecting
Onto those we know
Onto those we don’t
We hold the rainbow in our grasp
Shades of life
To be determined
By one



I originally wrote this for my cousin Allie's graduation.  But I like to look at it from time to time.  Helps me keep perspective. 

What Lies Behind the Door Untold?

Who Knows?
Not I, not you.
Only Him.


What awaits?

Who Knows?
Not I, not you.
Only Him.

He leads you to the water, but will not make you drink.
He provides the words, but will not force you to read.
He gives you the opportunity, but will not decide.

Dream your own dreams
Reach for the heavens
Make your own destiny

Whatever path He shows, follow it in faith.

- Allison
6/04/09



We've all got someone.  Or I guess most of us do anyway.  I'm lucky to have more than a handful or special folks in my life.  One is my Great-Grandma.  She has just moved out of her home and into a retirement village...  I had mixed feelings about this.  I mean really, it was sad.  It was best for her but gosh it made my heart hurt.  That little white house nestled next to the church and school, in the hills of almost Appalachia was more than just a house.  It was a home.  Which made me wonder... what's so special about it?  I wrote this a while back but it still rings true.

Somethin’ about
The porch
In the Creeking of the swing
And Waving to passing cars
listening to birds,
The singing - us and them

Somethin’ about
The clock
In the rhythmic chime
And the gentle ticks and tocks
Drifting me off to sleep
The heartbeat of the house

Somethin’ about
That kitchen
Warm and busy
Always full of stories
And in the smells
Inviting you to stay for a spell

Somethin’ about
The special things
The way the coffee whistles through the sippy
Bumped and frayed with generations of use


The photo albums with broken spines
Faces of our past, smiling out in sepia tones

And
The little brown sewing box
Holding a tiny thimble 
and memories of peaceful afternoons

But mostly its something about her
Something about
The smile in her eyes
And the pat of her hand

Something about the way
She made that house
A home of love
To us all

My Great Grandparents, Raymond & Ina Mae.    
Wish I could have known them back then.
Love you, Papaw & Grandma!


2 comments:

  1. I love the second poem! Makes me think of my grandmother!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Aww. Thanks for sharing, Heather! :)

    ReplyDelete