sun

Gratitude List: Last of 2012

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

It’s been a few days.  We’ve been sick.  Still, there has been much to be grateful about.  Tomorrow, I plan to start a new Poem-a-Day process for the month of January.  I’ll have to come up with the prompts mostly on my own, so please don’t hesitate to throw some my way!

1.  A black crow flying above golden corn stubble sprinkled with white snow.
2.  Rosy dawn sun shining through gull wings.
3.  The way Wrightsville nestles into the hillside in the setting sun.
4.  Mom’s chicken corn noodle soup.
5.  Jon’s tireless care of the rest of us, through midnight wakefulness to morning retching.  That’s a good man.

May we walk in Beauty.

Gratitude List

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

1.  That there are still a hundred shades of green even in the middle of December, and the way the Sun pointed at them for me this afternoon, elegant fingers slotting through the clouds.  See this one here?  And this?
2.  How the chickens skip and bounce out to see me when I go out to the coop.  I am under no illusions.  I know it is because I am the Lunch Lady, but Lunch Lady Love is still good lovin’.
3.  Arugula.  Both the taste and the sound of the word.  I always want to go honk an old-fashioned car horn. . .
4.  More on the Sun, which shone a quick beam through the clouds as I was washing carrots this afternoon.  Orange!  Sweet, glistening orange gems.
5.  Jon Weaver-Kreider, who worked all day, and then cooked dinner when I was too exhausted and wrapped up in kid-mediations to manage.

(I didn’t mention whoopie pies once).
Namaste.

Up the Hill

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / 2 Comments

I wanted to try a more traditional form, so here’s a Rondel.  Three stanzas (ABba, abBA, abbaA, where the CAPS are the refrain lines).

When I walked this morning up the hill into the sky
bits of quartzite threw back the laughter of the sun.
A flock of crows flew east to west, one by one.
I breathed the golden air as I watched them fly.

Across the sparkling arm of the sun, they passed me by.
I watched transfix’d.  I watched until they’d gone.
Bits of quartzite threw back the laughter of the sun
when I walked this morning up the hill into the sky.

The sun, a million miles away, a single fixed point, and I
another.  Draw the line between.  See how it runs,
a purposeful and shining thread, artfully spun.
It drew me up and up, toward that golden eye
when I walked this morning up the hill into the sky.

 

And a Gratitude List:
1.  The Pleiades
2.  Bagel sandwiches
3.  Whoopie pies
4.  Pileated Woodpeckers, and the hope of the Ivory Bill
5.  Walking the road together

Namaste