Scratch

Every Monday I receive Tiny House Swoon in my email. Tiny is appealing, even as I sit in my own not-so-tiny blue recliner from This End Up. I bought it almost thirty years ago now. It has seen me through A Lot, this chair. It is part of my Scratch. I do some of my best mining here.

I think I have to
build it all
from scratch.
Scratch
is all I have anyway.
I stare at tiny houses
Think life would be so much better
Were I to live in one
I had built
from scratch.
Scratch is all I have.
Dig down deep:
Scratch
Listen to the rain:
Scratch
Sit in the blue recliner
from 1989
Scratch
So much scratch
There is treasure there
Somewhere
A pot of gold
This side of the rainbow.
Scratch.

Scratch

There are so many things that tempt my creative nature.  I have started things, even churches, and watched them grow and die, only to become ground for something else.  Sometimes I can't see that "something else"  but still I know it's there.  Churches, and even life, are not meant to be grasped and held.  My daughter attended a great new church in Denver.  What a wonderful thing it would be to plant a church... she thinks.  Me too.  Still... me too.  I am reminded again... me too.

I have reached the stage

In my life

I realize

I will never start a church

From scratch.

Scratch never made

A good beginning anyway.

Nothing

After all

Begins from scratch,

Much less

Much more

Gatherings of people

Who care about one another;

People

Who figure out new ways;

People

Who adopt old ways

To care.

No one

Will ever start a church

From scratch,

Not even me.