This itself is different

Gotta love those grackles!

Sometimes I get hung up

On someone

Who has never understood me

In the past,

Not understanding me

Now.

Sometimes I think

It should be different.

This itself

Is different

Than not believing

People can change.

This itself

Is different

Than hopelessness.

This is different.

Sometimes I am able

To unhook myself

From that particular person,

Hear the grackles

Getting ready to fly south,

And prepare to fly

With them.

I went to bed early

Time to play with the kitten. First things first.

I went to bed early,

Slept twelve hours,

Woke to sun and grackles,

A kitten.

She attacked my ankles.

She said

Oh now you’re up

It’s time to wrestle

I think

I wrestled in my dreams

By the Jabbok.

What scars shall I live with?

What life

Shall I claim?

Where shall I speak?

Where shall I be silent?

What voice will I listen to?

What angel is worth

The wrestle?

Next to which river?

The kitten says

Wake up

I am worth your time

Let’s wrestle.

Background grackles

I would have slept in this morning, but it was important to attend church. 

Tonight I have chosen not to attend the renewal of ordination vows. I feel ordained enough to last the year. 

The fall light filters through trees, still green; the grackles are massing. I claim this spot, this particular spot, filled with background grackles.

Some moments are defined

By the choice we make

To be absent to one thing,

So we can be present

To another,

Even present to ourselves

On a late afternoon

In mid-October

Fall light with background grackles,

My beloved at work

In the other room

And me

Here

In this one.

Wisp of humor

I would have loved this yesterday.  Still, it came today... I am grateful for today.

I woke with a wisp

Of humor

Carried in by the cat,

Laid next to the bed

Like some mouse.

The redbud out the window

Is yellow.

This amuses me

As well.

Grackles fill the trees.

Humor perches

In the yards,

Front and back.

I woke with some humor

A wisp of humor

Carried in by the cat.

Grackle lessons

I had thought that yoga would be a good idea.  Having never done yoga before, I thought a class entitled Yoga for Beginners would be right up my alley.  It seems my brain did not agree with me.  So I am home learning lessons from the grackles, paying attention to the things I already know how to do, perhaps learning to do them better.

I am home

Making different plans.

The grackles gather

First in the back yard,

Then in the front,

Now in the trees.

They plan their trip south.

I am home

Making plans of my own,

Plans to continue doing

What I am doing,

Things that have worked

Up until now.

Change is not always

A good thing.

The grackles,

After all,

Are planning their usual trip

South for the winter

To return again in the spring

As usual.

I am home

Making usual plans

Like the grackles.

I am home

Learning grackle lessons.

Grackles

More backyard observations.  The grackles are in ascendance.  I miss the coyote.  Perhaps he ate all the crab apples.  Or perhaps something else finished them off.

The yard is filled with grackles

And the occasional squirrel.

They vie for the territory.

The grackles have

The edge.

Numbers count here.

Sixty massed grackles

Overtake one,

Even two,

Squirrels.

One grackle claims victory

For the flock

From his post

At the top of the garage.

Or perhaps he is afraid

Of the squirrels.

It is hard to know,

Not being knowledgeable

In the language

Of grackles.

The coyote has been unseen

Since the crab apple incident.

I worry

He may never return.