Thursday, February 21, 2013

blue, and a haiku.


The color, not the emotion. Well, maybe the emotion, too, a little. Well, sometimes a lot. But not today, today I'm just tired of hurting and overwhelmed with all the things I'm not getting done (including visiting your blogs.) I did see a woodpecker yesterday, and a cardinal today, and if I hadn't been so lazy I might have a photo of them for you. As it is, you're stuck with a photo from the kitchen, which is where I'm headed as soon as I post this. It's time for a cup of tea. But I'll leave you with a haiku that seems to fit today's theme:


"Dead my old fine hopes
And dry my dreaming but still...
Iris, blue each spring" 

― ShushikiJapanese Haiku



Thursday, February 14, 2013

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

when the shadow of further pain is averted


amazing how this lifted weight
brings all the small things into
significance, once again —
wind in the pines,
birdsong,
the taste of dark chocolate,
a kiss.
all were dust and ash,
now revived.
is this a glim of 
resurrection?


Monday, February 11, 2013

we'll sleep more soundly tonight.


Good news refreshes the body. 
Proverbs 15:30

My tests revealed a benign cyst. The doctor and technicians at the breast center took a lot of time with me and were very kind. God bless them for that. And God bless all of you who prayed for me and sent me words of encouragement. You were an anchor for this weary, storm-tossed, soul. Now I'm going to have a much needed cup of tea...




Saturday, February 9, 2013

a room with a view


Well, not much of a view. But the azaleas are starting to bloom, and the water vapor on the glass makes them look sort of romantic. I've been ill this week. My old enemy, abdominal adhesions, is attacking with a vengeance. So I've spent much of the week lying around and drinking fluids, which is about all this poor body can digest at the moment. On top of that, I'm facing down a diagnostic mammogram on Monday. (The key word here being "diagnostic," which means I have a lump that is either benign or cancerous. I wonder how many women, every day, are confronting this particular enemy?) At any rate, it's hard to face a potential new enemy when the old one is being so cantankerous. I'm praying and hoping for relief from the first attacker, and a non-threatening result from the second. Would you pray and hope, with me?



Saturday, February 2, 2013

honeybees in the trumpet vine.


For bees, the flower is the fountain of life;
For flowers, the bee is the messenger of love.

— Kahlil Gibran



When the bee comes to your house, let her have beer; 
you may want to visit the bee's house some day. 
— Congo Proverb


Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
 —John Keats