Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all

And sweetest in the gale is heard

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm

I've heard it in the chillest land

And on the strangest sea

Yet, never in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me. 

Emily Dickinson
Have a wonderful week all! (From Chris not Emily)

Tending the Shadow Rows

I woke to shadows and light;

each shape change of the covers

creating a new landscape

dreamily

reminding me of crop rows

planted straight and true.

Fortunately I got up

before the farm equipment arrived.

This, the last of a few vacation days, found me at the pivotal point where I'd almost forgotten what day it is and whats waiting at work. Near disconnection. Ah, but something wacky in computerdom placed tomorrows date in the corner of my screen. Not noticed until this afternoon, I had a few circle pacing moments of panic. It made farm equipment tending the shadow rows of the bedspread seem a "bit" less bizarre. Not sure if I should have taken more or LESS time off? Probably more...

4th Metaphor

We are multi-layered

short term creatures.

By nature,

as we strive we fray.

With each new exposure

we learn and review options...

move forward, pause or step back.

Incremental decisions

creating histories.

I'm grateful to be here

in this country

through the review and decisions 

made by the branches of my family

three hundred and some years past.

Grateful they came across the seas,

stayed,

held up,

did not step back

during times of fray.

They and others like them

saw the solid layers of possibility 

beneath the tatters

and understood the sense

of sound mending.

Thinking of them 

on this 4th day of July 

in the year 2011.