Failure

Failure brings the potential of new life.

Failure

Opens the way

For new things

To open the door

To new possibilities.

First

We must grieve

The failure.

Only then

Only then

May vision come.

Only then

May our ears

Be opened.

Only then

May we touch

The softness

Of new possibilities

Like

A baby blanket

Wrapped around

New life.

First

In our failures

We wait.

Namers of things

Thinking of delphiniums and pumpkins. Why? I do not know.

We are the namers

Of things.

I don’t think it matters

To rocks

Or birds

Or animals

Even plants.

Delphinium

Does not care

What we call it.

It is delphinium

When we perceive it

Blue and stalky.

A pumpkin

Is a pumpkin,

Round and orange

And carve able.

It carries seeds

For next year’s pumpkins.

It does not care

What we call it.

It just

Is.

Open doors

So good to turn off the air conditioning, breathe in the outdoors, hear one bird.

Open doors

Open windows

Finally a breeze.

It says

Breathe

Breathe

You can breathe.

It will all

Be all right

Today.

One day.

It counts

As one day.

Alone.

Then tomorrow

But now

One day

Alone.

Breathe.

Open doors

Open windows

One bird sings.

It is enough.

Breathe.

Lest you think

I don't know if most therapists keep treasure troves. I do know it is something I learned from mine. I do know it matters.

Lest you think

I don’t see:

I do.

But then

I figure you

Do know

I see.

You are the reason

I keep everything

Given to me

In my office

On display:

The orange peel angel

It hangs

On my desk lamp,

The carefully wrapped

Glass icicle

On my shelf,

With the rainbow

Bookmark;

The black dog card

On my desk;

The stone container

With a lid.

It reminds me

I can take the lid off

Anytime

I wish.

Getting ready for winter

Squirrel watching in the yard

Squirrels begin to dig

For nuts

They may have buried

Over the summer.

They don’t remember

Exact spots

But surely

They must be here

Somewhere.

Meanwhile

They eat crab apples,

Apples rest

On the surface,

Easily found.

Planned renovation

This time we will do our due diligence. .Of course everyone has an opinion of what due diligence means

We think

We may stay put.

The last renovation we did

Was the kitchen

When the contractor

Broke a pipe

Upstairs.

Water

And bits of ceiling

Everywhere.

Now it may be time

For a planned renewal.

The next thing

Is the architect

Who

God willing

Knows

What he or she

Is doing.

Six cars

People live here their entire lives

There are six cars

In the driveway,

One SUV,

One motorcycle

In front

Of the house

Across the street.

We want to hope

The best.

We fear

They do not gather

For a celebration.

People on our street

Live here

Their entire lives.

Grackle conversation

It's fun to project our thoughts on animals...even if they're thinking or talking about nothing at all.

The grackles line up

On the crab apple branches.

I believe

They talk about

What’s next

In Gracklese,

Although maybe

It’s only usual

Saturday conversation,

Like we have

Over a cup

Of coffee.

No plans here.

Remains of World War III

Sometimes a distance in time allows the possible enormity to sink in. It never quite occurred to me that the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Cold War and World War III were linked. Of course it did occur to my father, who fought in WWII. 

We always begin

With our own experience.

Where else

Would we begin?

Then certain pictures

Bring home

How widespread

It was,

How widespread

It is.

The remains

Of the possibility

Of World War III

Are left

All over the world.

I begin

At a fall-out shelter

In northern Minnesota

Stocked

With enough food,

Even dogfood.

I was seven

And a cat

For Halloween.

My parents

Had the radio on,

Tried to make things

As normal as possible

In the north woods

Of Minnesota,

That October.

The remains

Of the beginning

Of World War III

Still remain

All over the world.

Here's to life

Here's to life.

It takes awhile

Sometimes years

Sometimes decades

To speak into

Oppression:

The deep sort,

The core sort.

Indeed

Sometimes

It winds its way

Around our limbs,

Around our necks,

Until

In order to move

In order to breathe

The only option

Is death

Or life.

Conversations

Today I decided to listen beyond what I normally do. Surprise...I heard more.

I enjoy

The unplanned conversations

Best,

The people

Who drop in

And through

My life,

The unexpected folk

Who don’t say

Or do

What I thought

They would.

The element

Of surprise

Expands my life

When I let it.

Guest pass

Ah, the wonders that appear in the email box. So many guest passes.

Now comes

An offering,

A guest pass

To apply

For the next level,

More letters

After my name

As if

More letters

More levels

Are needed.

I like

The offering part,

The guest pass

Part.

I pass.

One Christmas

This is for my aunt, Catharine Seybold,  my mother's oldest sister. I am now the last Catharine Seybold in the line, after my grandmother and aunt. I never knew my grandmother, but I carry her name and genes. My aunt counted on my mother to pass on the name. So here I am. I write in name and memory of both of them. I write with love of language. I write remembering Aunt Catharine's wanting the "best translation" of the Bible for her bookshelf. A connector between us. She rarely (probably never) went to church.

One Christmas

Her present to each of us

Was the recently-edited

Chicago Manual of Style,

I don’t remember

Which edition.

Still

She and a colleague

Were the authors (editors?).

When she left The Press

She wanted to hear

From me

The best Bible translation

To keep

On the bookshelf

In her retirement community.

Cicadas to crickets

Day will always come

Cicadas give way

To crickets,

Give way

To cicadas

Again.

The cycle

Of day to night,

To day again

Offers the hope

Of every cycle,

The hope that day

Will always come

No matter what else

Goes on around us.

No matter what.

Cicadas

To crickets

To cicadas

To crickets

To cicadas

If we listen.

Now I write poems

Hmm. Here is where the poems went.

I wrote poems

In college.

Joe wrote poems, too.

When I graduated,

I had other things

To do.

I married.

I went to seminary,

Preached sermons.

Joe said

Where

Did the poems go?

I said

They are sermons

Now,

They are all

Sermons.

Joe said

That’s no excuse,

That’s absolutely

No excuse.

So now

I can’t preach.

The lights

Make me dizzy.

I have difficulty

Walking up

To the pulpit.

So now

I write poems.

I have lost track

Of Joe.

I would like to say

See, Joe,

See?

I hear him saying

Well

It’s about time.

Quiet

It was unbelievably quiet here.

Where were you?

I drove my five-year-old

To Montessori,

Listened to the radio

On the way home.

The skies

Were quiet

Oh so quiet

Here in the Midwest

The skies

Were quiet.

The pictures

On TV

Were anything

But quiet

But here

It was quiet.

Where were you?

Fledged

The backyard has been host to a new flock of young robins this year. They figure out bugs and worms and short flights.

The speckles

Begin to disappear.

The older robins say,

In whatever way,

Robins say:

The time comes

When we will fly

South.

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

The young birds,

Newly fledged,

Say

South?

What is

South?

What

Do we wait for?

Big square states

Minnesota is not square. I guess it's all a matter of perspective.

When I worked

On the East Coast,

Only once

On the East Coast,

The middle of the country

Was referred to as

“The big square states”

Until the West Coast,

Which of course

Was California

Or north

Of California.

I grew up

In a big square state

Which was

Not square.

At a distance

It takes time to figure out what to do in the face of tragedy...hurricanes...tsunamis...earthquakes. I read people saying these are signs of the "End Times." This is not the first time the "End Times" have been predicted. Here in the Midwest things are relatively quiet. We will see what comes to pass. In the meantime we pray and figure what we are called to do in this meantime.

We watch from a distance

But not too far.

It is quiet here

In the Midwest.

No storms

No hurricanes

No tsunamis

No earthquakes.

We watch from a distance

But not too far

To care

Not too far

To pray

Not too far

To know we are blessed.

Others

Are scared

And wet

And covered in rubble.

We will need

To figure out

In the quiet

At a distance

What it means to know

We are blessed,

To know

What to do.

What happens after Z?

Praying for family in Florida. I do wonder what happens after 26 storms are named, or if 26 tropical storms have never, ever, been identified in one year.

They all have names

From the list.

What happens after Z?

I assume

It starts

All over again.

WXYZ

Have been lost

In the wind and rain,

In the floods,

In the eyes,

In all the weather,

Which cannot possibly

Be a result

Of global warming.

Which can never ever

Be explained.

Vanilla milkshake

Taking things one step at a time, with assistance. We all need assistance,

Back into fall

Yes

A new season

New old shoes

They sort of fit

My feet.

My beloved makes sure

I only take it

One step

At a time,

Although I

Would move faster

Than that.

Still

This is what

My beloved is for:

To sit outside

The therapist’s office,

Take me for

A milkshake, vanilla,

When I am done.

One milkshake

At a time.

Threes and fives

I understand decorators say pictures should be placed on walls in threes and fives, Objects on shelves in threes and fives, It's a feng shui thing, along with keeping ones back to the door. I am a fan of ones and twos on occasion. My back is often to the door.

She says everything

Should be

In threes and fives.

We have a lot

Of ones and twos

So we can pay attention

To them

More easily.

Feng shui

Says threes and fives,

Keep your back

To the wall,

Face to the door,

Or at least have a mirror

So no one

Can creep up on you

From behind,

Even if the door

Is locked.

Threes and fives.

Face the door.

Variable

How to predict what is connected?

The weather has been

As variable

As my moods.

They rarely

Go together.

I wish I could tell

Which was which:

Cold and rainy might mean

Dull and cloudy;

Warm and sunny might mean

Pleasant and cheery

A smile for everyone

I encounter.

No

They rarely

Go together.

If it were only so

I could predict

What is coming.

As it is

It feels almost

Whimsical.

Remembering

I try my best not to lose things in a ditch.

I remember most things.

Other things I count on

Other people

To remember,

Remind me,

When

They are important.

Perhaps it is this way

With others.

I like to think

I remember things,

Important things

For others

Lest they lose them

In a ditch

In a stream

Give them away

Before it’s time

For them to go.