“Somehow there’s always grace to begin again.” ~ Ann Voskamp.
This year 2023 has been a rough one. We left 2022 praying for miracles and depending on God’s gift of grace unending. If you may remember, my oldest daughter, Rachel and her family lost their home in a fire Christmas night of 2022. Many compassionate people rallied to provide and support them in their plight. The insurance company has been very slow, and partial settlement funds have come. They have made home with a trailer situated on my son-in-law’s parent’s St. Francois County ranch, living a minimalist lifestyle. The lot the burned house was on still needs to be sold. The family battles flashbacks and sleep deprivation since the fire. Please continue in prayers for Rachel, Mick, Hannah, Ella, and Eli. “The mind is a wonderful servant but a terrible master,” author Robin Sharma tells us. Other family news … Granddaughter, Hannah moved into her first apartment. My son, Ben moved to Springfield, MO this spring, and seems to enjoy being there. My Elisabeth and husband, Mark have taken quite a liking for insects, and have a few terrariums housing their new pets. Libby and Brendan are occupied with work and school. Dean’s youngest son, Rainer and wife, Erica had another son, Jeremiah on March 3 who joins 3-year-old Jefferson. It is a joy having them just 25 minutes away. Dean’s oldest son, AJ and family, Nancy, Elise, and CJ keep busy with work and school. Little CJ started preschool this year. Dean’s daughter, Liz and husband, Vince keep up with work and are wonderful helpmates for their families. Most work projects at our St. Charles cottage had been curtailed with our families’ immediate needs in 2023. I managed to keep alive some potted herbs, and successfully grew Mexican sage and eucalyptus this year. Back at it in 2024 for our cottage, our rental house, and Dean’s parents’ house.
Dean’s mother passed away in October. She had been battling ill health and leukemia for at least a year. We typically visit the Kansas City family every 4 – 6 weeks. But between September and November, we went back and forth to the KC side of the state nine out of ten weekends with her end-of-life details, funeral, and caring for Dean’s father. Dean’s father agreed to a premier assisted living apartment in STL, which has made it much easier for his sons to visit regularly. Besides coffee & tea stops in obscure towns and villages while going back and forth to Farmington and Lee’s Summit this year, weekend getaways by ourselves or with family or friends included Rolla, Charleston, and Branson, MO; Eureka Springs, Arkansas; Tennessee for the Clarksville Writer’s Conference in June; a day in Glasgow, MO; another day in Lincoln Land, IL; a week away to the beautiful North Carolina Appalachians and Nashville, TN; a flight and an overnight in Texas for Dean’s aunt’s funeral in October; and a holiday weekend in the Wisconsin Dells.
Dean still loves serving the researchers who come into the National Archives military record center. He has been with this government agency for over 15 years. Dean talks about “retirement” in 4-1/2 years, but I cannot see him stopping the beloved “hunt” with the research he loves doing. Good chance a small research gig will be in Dean’s future after retirement. Author Gretchen Rubin writes, “That’s my ideal life. Doing work worth doing.” I found regular weekday part-time employment worth doing. Since May I have been working as a culinary professional for a non-profit organization that serves the senior and disabled communities with meals-on-wheels and services. The earlier full-time job was too much for me between the lack of adequate training at the credit union and running on fumes from weekend trips back and forth to Farmington to assist my daughter after the fire. Early autumn, the community college built a new space for culinary classes. I was asked to consult on necessary equipment and space design for the “Studio Kitchen”, and this new space is where I facilitated two cookie baking classes this holiday season.
“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work,” Thomas Edison is quoted. I continue to take opportunities to submit my poetry, short stories, and recipes to various online publications. Some of my writings are selected and published, plenty others denied. I participated in my first poetry reading in Eureka Springs, Arkansas early in 2023, and attended two other readings. In 2024 I will present a WCDH fundraiser workshop “The Essence of Lemon, Herbs, and Writing” on a date TBD. I facilitated this same workshop at a local lavender farm this past summer and loved the interaction of the participants. I joined a writers’ circle with some folks I met at the Clarksville conference. Every chance I have to be a part of the writing community, I take it. Huge strides have been made in a culinary themed book I am writing. “There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you,” author Beatrix Potter said. More recipes, poems, and short stories keep being added. A labor of love. I didn’t know this introvert had that much to share with the world. Somedays I prefer solitude rather than talk to people. If I am quiet long enough, I can hear. “Sound is ephemeral…Sound is generative…Listening opens us to the wonders of communication and creativity,” shared keynote speaker David George Haskell at the Clarksville writers’ conference. I work things out with words in the quiet, writing them down and reading others’ words. Other days I need to have that meaningful conversation with a friend, family member, co-worker, or senior client. “Writers and artists work in the loneliest of all professions, inside our heads”, eMerge co-editor Charles Templeton wrote in a newsletter.
Fluffy pillows and comforters layered on a settee, piled reading books on the floor besides, and a cup of hot cocoa lathered with whipping cream atop … this is what I look forward to this winter which is predicted to be long and cold, the snow shovel kind according to the persimmon seeds. I will watch the snow and songbirds through the frosty windows while snug warm under blankets, listening to the quiet hush, occasional chirps, and let the words flow on paper. “Live from the abundant place that you are loved, and you won’t find yourself begging others for scraps of love,” Christian author, Lysa TerKeurst encourages us. Ann Voskamp reminds us, “Whatever rock and tender place the bruised soul finds itself between, it’s witness there right into the face of the rock we’re facing. There is no such thing as salvation by romance, or by achievement, or by dream life, or by any good behavior, or by itself or anyone else … No choice you or anyone else makes has the power to make you unchosen … What you want most deeply is to be deeply wanted as a person, valued and needed, seen and safe and known.” Simply, God the Father chose you, salvation is through the gift of Jesus alone, and nothing can separate you from the love of God. The Holy Spirit lives in you and me. I pray you know these truths, live them, and share them.
“Nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” ~ Romans 8:38
“The beauty of the trees, the softness of the air, the fragrance of the grass … the summit of the mountain, the thunder of the sky … the trail of the sun, and the life that never goes away, they speak to me, and my heart soars.”
~ Chief Dan George
Dean and I got away this weekend. While in route to a countryside Ozark destination we talk on the telephone with our son and 7-year-old granddaughter. She asked, “getting away from what?” Good question. The answer is “everyday life”. Do you ever need a reset button? Take a couple of days away from your own four-walls and neighborhood. Just the drive southward I felt like a load taken off my back and feet. Being in new scenery did wonders. Cobwebs are cleared out of the brain. Breathing fresh air instead of the stifling stagnate vapors. Sleeping is allowed with no schedule to keep. The body is rested. Hot beverages sipped while conversations are simple and sweet. Kissing is easier, intimacy is reveled. Listening to poetic words shared in a quaint setting is like a snug quilt. The writing pen flows as the wind does. God’s grace was given these autumn days in the Ozarks.
"Yes, God is more than ready to overwhelm you with every form of grace, so that you will have more than enough of everything —every moment and in every way. He will make you overflow with abundance in every good thing you do."
~ 2 Corinthians 9:8 The Passion Translation
“Nature … is as much a part of my poetry as the alphabet.” ~ Phillip Howerton
A Patchwork Quilt
Patches come alive on the country drive with
nature’s many vignettes together making a lovely spread.
Colorful swatches pieced on the quilted landscape
with each border of trees and patch of farm telling its own story.
Each story preserved with reverence, holy and sacred
as You live out Your story, I admire Your beauty.
That gold thread worked throughout Your swatch
You cannot see while You work, fight, sit, and play.
The blends of brown and green match perfectly
to the red and golden patch found next door.
The rivers of blue flow to the rose-colored borders,
opens the gates to more stories on the horizon.
The purple haze dims your otherwise ocher perspective,
but from My view casts a mystic yet faithful cover.
My view is not pretentious from the heavens,
My batting is Your foundation, necessary for warmth and togetherness.
I am there with You stitch by stitch, the ins and outs of the needle.
Your doubts and whereabouts I know, I know You full well,
every flaw, tear, stain, and blemish combed in and out of Your fabric.
You are altogether lovely at a time such as this.
A patchwork quilt worth living the whole,
it’s pieced purposes for yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
While on a country drive in northern Missouri the day we buried Dean’s mother, we stopped along the roadside where a local man was selling bundles of bittersweet. We bought a small bundle to capture the colorful autumn season and this day. The past few days came in like a whirlwind leaving the mind with thoughts scattered like the autumn leaves, and the heart in such an array of emotions. Bittersweet are the days in October. The leaves weep that summer is gone like I have with saying goodbye to a parent yet another October. Like a young loon and its parent who has flown South without him.
"I find it a little melancholy when I see parent and child this time of year. The parent seems to have a 'far-off' look that betrays thoughts of soon leaving forever, the child she devoted her life ... Little does the child know that it will soon be fending for itself and will have to find its way south without mom's/dad's help." ~ Matt Huras
We returned home, and the hummingbirds have left Missouri to go South, too. With some parents leaving comes sooner than others. Like twice before there is an emptiness with the death of a parent, but with God’s grace, we will move on to our destination.
Late summer vacation week this year. Dean and I brought with us my oldest daughter, son-in-law, and two of the grandchildren. We had an overnight stop in Nashville and made it to our destination in the North Carolina Appalachian Mountains early this evening. Breathtaking views at dusk and the air cool. Dean and I have been blessed to find comfort in nature’s beauty and seek those sweet spots for our vacations. Our first time in these parts of the Appalachians, and so happy to share this experience with some of the kids. The ripple effects of God’s blessings flowing through our lives I hope are felt by our children and grandchildren. It is my 63rd birthday today, and love to be celebrating it with my oldest this year. Grandchildren, Ella and Eli posed for this photo with me while in Nashville at the hotel.
A song Alan Jackson sings says how I feel about my 63rd birthday…
The older I get The more I think You only get a minute, better live while you’re in it ‘Cause it’s gone in a blink And the older I get The truer it is It’s the people you love, not the money and stuff That makes you rich
And if they found a fountain of youth I wouldn’t drink a drop and that’s the truth Funny how it feels I’m just getting to my best years yet
The older I get The fewer friends I have But you don’t need a lot when the ones that you got Have always got your back And the older I get The better I am At knowing when to give And when to just not give a damn
And if they found a fountain of youth I wouldn’t drink a drop and that’s the truth Funny how it feels I’m just getting to my best years yet The older I get
And I don’t mind all the lines From all the times I’ve laughed and cried Souvenirs and little signs of the life I’ve lived
The older I get The longer I pray I don’t know why, I guess that I’ve Got more to say And the older I get The more thankful I feel For the life I’ve had and all the life I’m living still
Songwriters: Adam Wright / Hailey Whitters / Sarah Turner
“Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind. Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine…” Elvis Presley
The week started with watching the recorded Grand Ole Opry’s show with Vince Gill’s rendition of Ray Price’s “Danny Boy”. Now I love Vince Gill. And his version of this timeless classic was so sweet. But thoughts about the one-and-only singer, Ray Price continued throughout the week. On Friday while celebrating August birthdays at the senior center, the guest singer shared Ray Price’s song “For The Good Times”. Funny how a song can bring you back 50 or 60 years ago. I was brought back to the mid-1960’s watching my parents’ tender moment while they listened to Ray Price’s album playing on the turntable. I believe it was their favorite song.
As this memory lane week went Dean and I had planned to remove the dead refrigerator from our rental house’s garage. While loading the old frig Dean found in its insulation my Girl Scout membership card from 1968. This refrigerator was bought in the 1960’s by my parents. It was their primary refrigeration for a few years in my first childhood home and became the secondary cooler for soda and beer when we moved to the cedar ranch house built by my father on the tree farm. After my parents retired, the refrigerator followed them to their Pike County house, again stocking beverages in the basement. After Dad passed away, my mother moved into a villa in St. Peters. The 50+ year-old refrigerator needed a new home. It lived its last years in the garage of my St. Peters home once again as a beverage cooler. That Girl Scout card was another reminder of my childhood. Seems so long ago. It is long ago, but the memories so clear like it was yesterday.
The nostalgic week ends in the St. Peters house going through boxes of old papers. Some set aside for burning, others thrown away in the trash bin, and others boxed again. I stumbled upon several poems I wrote in the 1990’s. One poem melted my heart. It was about the teddy bear gifted to my oldest daughter, Rachel. As an expectant mother I had unwrapped it at the shower. The brown little fella sat in the baby nursery, came to the childbirth classes, and witnessed Rachel’s birth. The poem continued to talk about my other two babies. Those young motherly feelings were felt so vividly once again. What a beautiful week of nostalgia, sweet memories relived in my heart.
Who do you surround yourself with? I hope with folks that encourage you to do better and still accept you when you are far from your best. I chose to surround myself with a wonderful man, family, friends, and mentors. People who reaffirm “I am enough.” Dean and I love each other’s company no matter where we are at, four or five hours in the vehicle on a road trip. We take in the scenery, silence, listen to music, and talk from time to time. Simply, home is where he is. I think he feels the same about me. This spring we have taken some long weekends relishing the spring greens and blooms. One weekend by ourselves, another included friends, and this last one included mentors and family. I met one of my culinary and literary heroes this past weekend. Dean and I drove to Eureka Springs, AR for The Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow’s Poetluck event. I have been following Crescent Dragonwagon for over 25 years in books, magazines and online. She has authored over 50 cookbooks and children’s books as well as donated the Dairy Hollow House for this non-profit group as a base to encourage the written and spoken word. There at the WCDH Crescent and others welcomed every new and old face. It felt good to be recognized now that I have been coming to the writers’ group for almost 2 years. What a feeling of belonging while with my fellow writers.
“I wanted to appreciate the moments of my life more fully; I wanted to get out of my head and into my life; I wanted to deepen my knowledge of the world, of other people—and of myself.” ~ Gretchen Rubin
What do you surround yourself with? Beauty. Love. Words. Life. “Magic Pools” as Margaret Tarrant’s painting depicts those swirls of infinite dreams, some coming alive, others still being stirred up inside. Dean and I still dream and talk about a house a little bigger than our current cottage house. A home with enough space to welcome visiting guests and our hobbies. Adjoining are a small greenhouse and studio/workshop to create in. Most likely situated on the edge of town in a different Missouri county. See where God leads us as Dean’s retirement approaches. Meantime, we gather glimpses of the past through research, museums, and antique shops to know where we came from. We live in the present moment with loving relationships, positive affirmations, the Word of God, and meaningful activities that fill our days. We share the joys and sorrows of our loved ones. We watch and listen to a pair of robin birds care for their little ones literally outside our front door. We plant flowers, herbs, and greens in planters because we believe in the future. Surround sounds, touches, smells, tastes, and sights as Gretchen Rubin explains in her newest book Life In Five Senses. Today, every day live life fully present. Tomorrow will take care of itself.
What happened to January? The bustling holiday season went into a busy January, and finally a weekend in mid-February set aside to slow down, stay home, read, and write. My blogging and writing curtailed with a new weekday office job, weekends in Farmington, cottage interior projects, and reorganizing. Dean and I last-minute traveled to Eureka Springs, AR to join in my first evening of readings with The Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. I shared a couple of classics from Emily Dickinson and Christina Rossetti, and then a few of my own poems. I experienced the beatnik snapping fingers. Fun! One poetry submission went out in January. I may be able to get one or two submissions this weekend. My life changed its course starting in December. After working for 18 months with part-time jobs after my retirement from my HR position with the local government, I decided to seek a full-time job where I have dependable hours. I started this HR position just before Christmas. Much more to learn with this generalist role in a smaller organization. Thankful it has been a friendlier culture. I continue to teach a culinary class one or two evenings a month. Diligence and time management are all the more necessary to keep to my writing projects.
One day out of each weekend since Christmas have been helping my daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids who live in Farmington, MO. Their house burned down Christmas night. They escaped with no injuries, thank God! They have a long road to full recovery from this tremendous loss. Miracles after miracles have been witnessed. The other day of each weekend are filled with home projects. The cottage guest bedroom had a face lift on one wall. Dean put up bead board, carefully cutting to fit around the window frame. We will paint the bead board an off-white when the weather warms up this impending spring and the windows can stay open for a day. It really lightens up the room, mellowing the cranberry red wallpaper and keeps to the Edwardian country decor. While Dean worked on that, I have been paring down and reorganizing drawers, closets, and rooms. We did a couple of furniture swaps between bedrooms to simplify access. Now Valentine hearts along with seasonal snowmen and snowbirds dot the rooms with a festive fever. I put together various candy jars for the kids and my fellow HR co-workers. I thoroughly believe gifts of love expressed from the kitchen can be given to everyone you meet.
“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.”
~ Linda Grayson
“At the end of the day, I believe you lead with your heart. This is all part of who I am, no matter where I am. My heart is my heart.”
Dean and I had a different kind of year in 2022. Odd ball weather, I suppose normal for Missouri. I observed more sundogs in the sky than I ever remember. The long winter made for quality time writing. I submitted short stories and poems to several different publications and continue to submit at least one writing every month. New writings with Flapper Press published this year, and more coming out in eMerge in 2023. We had funky shifting winds in the spring, and our first failed crop of greens. Must have been a bad batch of seeds and a few too hot days. There was a record 12″ rain one summer night causing major flash flooding in our area as well as two windows leaking in our cottage in St. Charles. Dean did some work on the cottage to prevent it from happening again, or at least we hope! We had a fairly pleasant autumn, but an early arctic blast just before Christmas, that made for a white one. Holiday celebrations were delayed due to those subzero temps, illnesses, and a fire disaster. I think the word “resilience” was used on a number of occasions this year.
Dean had struggled with sleep apnea for years, but it escalated to a serious case. It was greatly affecting his normal functions, so he finally sought his doctor about it. After several tests with a specialist, he uses a machine diligently every night now. He is sleeping much better, and so am I! Overall, I am doing well. Stress will get those PVCs going, but my heart is healthy. Arthritic days come and go. Between seasonal and per diem jobs not providing enough hours and income, this autumn I had decided to seek a new full-time HR job with dependable hours and good pay. I started this job with a local credit union a few days ago. The work culture is pro-actively positive. I will probably do this full-time stuff for another 5 years until I draw on my SS. I still teach per diem culinary evening classes at least once a month. Other family members struggle with health issues. Dean’s mother has been diagnosed with a type of leukemia and undergoing oral treatment. My Rachel continues with some painful days with the rare nerve disorder. Thankful an unexpected inheritance has been able to fund her medical care. Dean’s youngest, Rainer, who lives in the suburb of St. Louis now had an emergency appendectomy just before Christmas but is healing well. Overall, all the kids and grandkids are well. We will welcome another grandbaby in March. I continue to pray that ours and those of our loved ones’ body, mind, and spirit be whole.
We had our routine travels back to see the Kansas City family a few times, a February week away from Missouri’s winter driving to beautiful St. Augustine, FL. We stopped in Nashville, TN for our first Grand Ole Opry show. It had been on my bucket list of events for a while, and so happy to finally experience country music at its finest. We visited Dean’s brother and family in Chicagoland one weekend in August. We chose to wait for another week away for September rather than the hot summer. Went to Colorado to see the quaking aspens and mountains in Avon, Colorado area. Another bucket list experience I had for good many years. Visited family in the Denver area. Memphis bound for one night so we could see Vince Gill in concert. We enjoyed the Branson area twice, a couple of days in May with some of our friends, and another weekend in November on our way back from Eureka Springs, AR where we met up with my sister and her partner. I attended a writer’s workshop at the Writer’s Colony at Dairy Hollow. Also, had an unexpected trip to Mississippi in March. My younger brother, Steve suddenly passed away while he was on vacation there. My older brother, sister-in-law, Dean, and I met up with my sister there to make final arrangements.
“You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy.”
Psalm 30:11
This year of 2022 was full as many of our previous years. Full of lovely moments with family and friends, and ones that we also said “goodbye” to so many family members. I had two uncles, one aunt, a cousin, and my younger brother pass away, and Dean had an aunt the family said “goodbye” to. Filled with mixed emotions, sadness as well as thankfulness for their lives with us. In the very last hour of Christmas Day, my daughter, Rachel and her family Micky, Hannah, Ella, & Eli escaped a fire that totally destroyed their home in Farmington, MO. A complete loss. It is a miracle that none of them were killed or injured. One of their dogs, LILO passed away from smoke exhaustion while trying to herd the family out of the house. There is a place in heaven for her. A cat and pet frog are gone from this life, too. We rejoice for our children’s lives spared, and a long road to recovery is underway. We get to witness miracle after miracle of how God is providing for them through His people. So many community and church groups have rallied together on their behalf as well as friends and family giving of themselves, resources, and love to help. I truly believe good overpowers the bad through the grace and mercy of our God! In 2023 there will be some joyful dancing!
“He will give: beauty for ashes; joy instead of mourning; praise instead of heaviness. For God has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for His own glory.”
Winter came upon us early. We were hoping to put this colder weather off until closer to Christmas, but the Midwest has its own mind. For the past 4 or 5 autumn seasons, Dean and I manage to get away for a long weekend in the Ozark Mountains, about a 4 or 5-hour drive for us. Some months ago I planned a long weekend trip to attend a writer’ workshop in the Ozarks at one of my favorite places The Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. Dean used his last vacation days of the year to join me as a chauffeur, but also as a fellow partaker of the slower-paced Ozarks countryside and local cuisine. The writer’s workshop was thought-provoking learning more about using ekphrasis and hearing the shared words of other writers.
The children’s & cookbook author Crescent Dragonwagon calls the local food, “‘zark cuisine” and made it famous at her Dairy Hollow House back in the 1980’s and 90’s. From this establishment came The Writer’s Colony at Dairy Hollow, and that unique culinary suite I wrote from one week the summer of 2021. The foods come to the forefront of our long weekend in Eureka Springs, Arkansas and Branson, Missouri. This year we met up with my sister and her partner, Sandy at the Local Flavor Cafe in Eureka Springs for delicious dinner entrees. I found a great deal for sleeping accommodations at the Bridgeford B & B situated close to downtown on Spring Street. Breakfast fare and fellowship with other guests and the hostess was delightful on that first snowy morning. For lunch Dean partook of a veggie hash bowl and I had a slice of spinach-mushroom-sausage quiche at Mud Street Cafe before heading to our beloved Branson for a 2-night stay at a snuggled lakeside resort. A quaint eatery run by a husband-and-wife team downtown Branson served us delicious Thai-style plates at a decent price. A ‘Zark-style breakfast at Clockers Cafe is served all day and we are game for anytime.
Local shoppes, Silver Maple and Crescent Moon Beads are our stops in downtown Eureka Springs. I found a string of beautiful beads to make my first eyeglasses lanyard. I need those reading glasses more often with increased age, reading, and writing. Our Branson entertainment was the Market Days craft show during the afternoon with booths of crafts, fancy cowgirl garments, jewelry, jackets, and boots. Two gorgeous Christmas light displays dazzled us, one for each evening while in Branson. The Big Cedar Lodge is fabulously displayed with holiday cheer! We come back to our suite with a small pizza from a local pizzeria and watch a 2-hour Opry special. Of all people the Opry is honoring Johnny Morris, founder and owner of 50-year-old Bass Pro, Big Cedar Lodge, and multiple other outdoor business adventures as well as a successful philanthropist and nature conservationist. How appropriate for our Ozark weekend! Finished the weekend with another antique shop for holiday gifts on the way home.
Here in my neck of the woods autumn arrived overnight when a cold front blew in rain and cooler temperatures. By the books the summer ends today and the meteorologists are saying officially the autumn equinox takes place this evening. But my senses tell me it is already here! All just in time for a road trip to Colorado to see groves of glowing aspen, rigid mountains, and brief visits with friends and family along the way and back. Packed long and short-sleeve shirts, shorts, leggings, jeans, jackets, socks and my boots. I brought my sandals as well as a winter coat just in case. Ready for it all!
Preparations have been made all week. Bills paid ahead, ordered the mail to be held until we get back, arrangements made for my brother & sister-in-law to look after our cottage and yard, ate leftovers and emptied the frig. All were a reminder that vacation is finally here. Dean and I put off a week-long vacation this summer to experience this autumn get-away. Our last long road trips this year were to St. Augustine in February for a sunny vacation, and Gulfport, Mississippi in March to make arrangements for my younger brother’s remains after his sudden death. But these next 9 days away we will travel to the countryside and be with the “Talking Tree, a place where spirit and nature can be”.
Come with me to the Talking Tree
a place where spirit and nature can be.
Where science of the forest couples
with ancient traditions of the land.
Where indigenous people learn to live
with trees mindfully hand in hand.Listen to branches rustling hymns
through silent sounds in their limbs.
Mighty Maples murmur in the breeze
sweet tales of syrup drawn to please.Trees converse, they do care
sending forest messages everywhere.
Through the air and underground
signals pulse from floor to crown.Quaking Aspen is known for being
the earth's most massive living thing
these trees united by one root system
the world's largest superorganism.Trees often act for collective good
doing exactly what they should.
Sometimes they will reset their mast
until the attacking danger's passed.Internal rhythms set their pace
slower than the human race.
Tree's daily burden that they bare
is they process the world's air.Did trees learn survival plans proven
in the 360 million years pre-human?
What do 7 billion humans foresee
as the fate for earth's 3 trillion trees?Fallen trees again live too
vessels that life flows through.
Their wood relives deeply in
buildings, books even violins.So stand with me in equanimity
and listen for lyrics patiently.
Wait to hear beneath this tree
poised to the sound of "poetree".
by Greg Gaul
Deanna Greens and Garden Art 