Butterflies

New braces!

The butterflies are here

Flying on my thin ankles

My thin calves

They fit

Finally they fit

I am grateful

The butterflies are here

Flying

Flying

Blue and flying.

Icee bear

Summer job.

As a teenager

I spent one summer

In a bear suit,

An Icee bear suit.

The fan inside the head

No longer worked.

It was hot.

Really hot.

Did I mention

It was hot?

Yes,I had other jobs

But nothing compared

With the Icee bear.

Seizure stories

Yes, I have more stories. The difficulty with the post-ictal state is that I don't remember most of them.

I collect stories

From the several

Emergency rooms

I have visited

After a seizure.

I now have favorite stories,

Though some

Not so much.

Seizure number two

The one

With a possible concussion

Brought a doctor

Asking me

Who the President

Of the United States was.

How sad

I thought

He doesn’t know

Who the President is.

To be helpful

(I try to be helpful)

I told him.

There was the ER visit

They wanted

To send me home

In a cab.

Thank God

My beloved got there

First.

Trout

The family now tells me stories of the speech therapist loudly asking me where fish live. It is now a family joke. I would like to be a rainbow trout.

When I was in the hospital

The speech therapist asked me

Where fish live.

Being in intensive care

And not focused

On fish

Or water

I did not respond.

Now I think

I would like to be

A rainbow trout

And live

In a fast-flowing

River.

Endurance

From Brain Pickings this morning. The rest is from me.

What I could,

I changed;

What I couldn’t,

I endured.

Dorothy Vaughan

NASA mathematician

The birds in flight

On the bookshelves

Remind me

Of possibilities

Even as I sit in the living room

In the blue chair,

The walker

In front of me.

Then I read

This quotation

From Dorothy Vaughan,

An African American mathematician

In the 1940’s.

I am amazed

At her endurance.

If she could do it

So can I

So can I

So can I.

The birds continue flying

On the bookshelves.

I fly

In my own way.

I change what I can.

I endure what I must.

But always

I fly.

My decision

Rather amazing. Decided this morning to take my pension and not apply for disability. It was easier than I thought it would be.

Decision:

Pension

Not disability.

There are advantages

To being 61.

Already I feel better.

Already

I know I do not

Have to prove anything

To anyone.

Those years were earned.

My brain

Is my brain.

My feet

Are my feet.

The decision

Is my decision.

Yes

This is my decision

Waiting to leave

Watching birds is in my genes

The birds mass

To leave

Line up on the wires

To figure out

Where everyone

Is.

They count

Each other

Figure out who is first

Who second

Who will lead

Who will trail

The flock

When the time

Really comes.

In the meantime

They line up

Practice counting

Practice massing

Practice figuring

Practice waiting

Lightbulbs

Figuring out the littler things to be grateful for. Now we have more light, thanks to my Beloved.

My Beloved replaced

All the burned-out lightbulbs.

It is amazing

What comes clear

With more light.

I know

Not so amazing

Really.

Still

With feet that barely work

I couldn’t do it.

I am grateful

As I watch him

On the ladder.

Grateful

I tell you

Even as I know

This is an odd topic

For a poem.

Learning what not to write

Happy Autumnal Equinox.

There are many things

I want to write about

Yet now that I know

More people are reading

In Turkmenistan

In Pakistan

Heck

All the Stans

And beyond;

I shall keep them

To myself

Leave them for later

Much later

Perhaps keep a journal

Offer those things up

In prayer

Tell them to the cat

In my lap.

Mitten throw

Each of us is not in charge of everything.

When people visit

We clean off the table

Pick up the living room

Make sure the piles of things

Are behind the chair.

The kitten is herself

Too small to blame

For everything

Out of place.

As I write

I see the mitten she uses

To play the game

We call

Mitten throw

In the doorway

Between the kitchen

And the dining room.

Soon that mitten

Will find its way

Into the water dish

Onto the stairs

At my feet.

We are not in charge

Of the mitten.

In this bright room

Perspective. Things seen on-line are never the same as in person or perhaps "in plant." This is the same part of my family as the one that cataloged Minnesota birds. Of course "pictures" are themselves one step removed from the plant or bird.

In this bright room

I read the email

My brother sent

With detail

Of watercolor botanicals

In the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum,

Detailed portraits of plants

By great-aunt Emma

Step-great-grandmother Agnes Williams

So detailed

He says

Every rootlet is defined

As if painted

With a single-hair brush.

In this bright room

I am reminded

Of members of my family

I never knew.

I am told the plants

May be published

On-line

But still

They won’t be seen

The same

As that rootlet painted

With a fine-hair brush.

Video seizures

More waiting

Three days

To two weeks

Of video seizures,

I may be released

As soon

As three days,

As late

As fourteen.

How will they tell

What is enough

Where the exact spot

Speaks

In my brain;

How will the tell

Where the exact spot

Shows itself

In my brain;

Will they tell?

How will they know

Where is enough?

What is enough?

Knitting ladies

Remembering.

Years ago now

When a vestry member complained

He did not understand my sermons;

Years ago now

When other vestry members

Who did understand

Offered me

A sermon coach

She taught high school English,

A sermon coach

She was so serious

She did not understand

Cartoons;

Years ago now

I declined that offer;

And the ladies

Who sat every Thursday

Knitting

In the narthex

Offered to rank my sermons

Like competitive ice skating

With cards in back

Of the church

10’s and 9’s and 8’s.

The knitting ladies

Knew humor

They read the comics

Every morning,

As they knit

Every Thursday evening,

Prayer shawls

For all in need of prayer

Even me.

Rubble of hope

We are all rubble

Today is Holy Cross Day.

I mine my religious friends

For signs of remembering this

Signs of the True Cross

Found in the rubble

Of Golgotha.

We are all rubble.

I remember the questions:

Would you rather stand

At the foot of the Cross

Or wait

For the Stone

To be rolled away?

To see

Who will come out?

I know every Sunday

Is Empty Tomb day

Still I wait

For signs of Life.

I wait

Mine the rubble

Of Golgotha.

We are all rubble.

All of us.

The Tomb is empty.

The stone at the entrance

Has been pulverized

Into rubble

Of hope.

The kitten

It may go both ways

The kitten

She has found me

On the sofa

Soft and breathing

A slight purr

She nestles against my leg

Her paws

The color

Of salted caramel

Maybe dulce

Con leche.

The kitten is a comfort to me

I may be a comfort to her

As well.

Saturdays are for sleep

Everyone has different ideas.

Saturdays are for sleep

Though it seems

There must be more

To them.

I watch the hours move

On the clock

On my watch

On my numb toes.

I listen to the turtle

Bang his plate

Against the glass

Of his tank.

He believes Saturdays

Are for turtles.

He knows

There is more to the weekend

Than sleep.

Blueberries he says

Blueberries.

Blue recliner

Ode to a chair as old as dirt.

I arrive downstairs

To find the chair,

The blue recliner,

Stuck

In the reclining position.

My computer lives

On the desk

Attached

To the recliner.

I manage to climb in.

The grandfather cat

Wheezes and snores

In his cat bed

Across the room.

We have talked

About replacing

The blue recliner.

It is now at least

Thirty years old

As old

As the turtle

As old as dirt

We may

Have to put it

In the will

Stuck

In the reclining

Position.

Here I am

The passage in Genesis in which God asks Abraham to kill Isaac is one which my beloved and I have spent hours discussing. What kind of  God is this? What kind of God, I ask you?

Here I am

Whose call

Will I answer

When the call comes

Whose call

Will I answer?

Here I am

Here I am

Here I am

It’s not so simple

Still

Here I am

Thin-ness

Some places are noted thin spots...Iona, Santa Fe, to name a couple. I think there are thin spots all over the world. Thin-ness may be found everywhere.

Thin-ness

Can be found

All over the world

No matter the spot

No matter the understanding

No matter

The people

Involved

No matter

The weather

No matter the sun

Or rain.

Thin-ness

Has its own

Particular feeling.

It has its way.

It will continue

To have its way

There it is.

Here it is.

Thin-ness.

It is not meant

To be explained.

Home...dizzy

Nothing like living with a turtle

I am home

Dizzy

The turtle stares

At me

He hopes I will get his message

Of

Blueberries

Blueberries

Blueberries

Opens and shuts

His mouth

Blueberries

Blueberries

Blueberries

I am home

Dizzy

With the turtle

He stares

The way turtles do

Blueberries

Blueberries

Blueberries

I understand

Toes

My delightful daughter has scouted out a new pedicure place. It is time.

Before I fell,

Spent hours on the floor,

A month in the hospital

And now weeks

Learning how to walk

Again

With more weeks

To go.

It is now time

To pay attention

To my toes.

The polish applied

At the beginning of March

Is halfway grown out.

Hello toes.

There you are.

Apple Cable Penny

And now my beloved tells me the second word was really table. Really?  Really? What the heck? No wonder I didn't remember it. It was the wrong word.

Apple

Cable

Penny

She wants me

To carry these three words

Through

The other brain exercises

Cable

Was the most difficult

For me.

My beloved forgot

Penny

Even though the brain exercises

Weren’t for him,

He tried them anyway.