Juncos

Sometimes the signs of the season are not obvious, until they are brought to our attention.

I hear the cat chitter,

The special sound he only makes

For birds.

The juncos are back in town.

They always look like there*s a special occasion,

Dark grey suits with white shirts,

No tie.

It is hard to tell that winter waits.

No snow.

Two stray purple clematis blossoms

Have survived the frost.

Meanwhile we mark time

To Christmas.

Two candles on the Advent wreath.

We mark time

With the juncos.

They are dressed for the banquet

At the King*s table,

At the Baby*s christening.

They wait on the lawn

For the vine out front

To return to winter mode.

They wait

For the snow.

They wait for the banquet,

The baby.

They are already dressed.

Some things learned in the grocery store this afternoon

Adventures are what we make them.  I have never seen onions being vacuumed before.

The blackberries were three containers

For the price of one.

Eyebrows raised,

We bought them and will wash them

Thoroughly.

The onions were in the process

Of being vacuumed.

Is there a special produce vacuum?

Better yet

An onion vacuum?

We didn*t see.

We asked and were told

Loose onion skins

Make the display messy.

There were packs of ping pong balls,

(No paddles)

Next to the soft drinks.

No explanation

But I*m sure I can come up with some sort

Of a connection.

Twenty-five minutes in the store

I practiced seeing what food looks like

In a partial seizure

Eyes wide open.

I read Smart Bran

As Smart Brain,

Openly wondered how a cereal

Could make such a promise.

Come to think of it:

How can a cereal

Be smart?

This wasn*t even

What my mother-in-law would call

A hotsy-snotsy grocery store.

Now we are home.

The blackberries are thoroughly washed.

I consider vacuuming the onions.

The Smart Bran is on top of the refrigerator

With its ambiguous promise.

I remember how much I used to enjoy

Ping pong.

Eyes wide open

It did not seem a mystery to my friends.  Of course it*s better to keep your eyes open, they said.  They reminded me of spinning as a child. One even reminded me of how much worse it got after too much wine if you let yourself close your eyes.  Oh yeah, I thought.  That*s right!  So how come I forgot?  Here*s a good place to cite the value of companions who can help us remember.  I have good company.  How come I so often forget?

I puzzled why I couldn*t close my eyes,

Regain composure,

When I got dizzy and blurry.

Of course you can*t

He said.

She said.

You only make it worse.

Still

I puzzled.

On the way to church this morning

I was reminded about spinning around

As children,

That wonderful dizzy feeling.

When we fell to the ground,

Shut our eyes,

The dizziness increased.

Now I remember:

Something happens when we grow up.

That wonderful dizzy feeling

Loses its wonder;

The stomach does unpleasant

Flip flops.

We no longer relish

The feel of the world turned upside down.

Our adult brains

Seek equilibrium,

Stability,

At least the ability

To see straight

Without the loss

Of lunch.

Now I work to keep my eyes wide open,

Despite dizziness and blur.

I catch things I missed

When I closed my eyes against it.

I catch things I missed
when I look through the haze.

I catch things I missed

When I remember

To keep my eyes wide open.

Stay awake

This Advent is particularly potent for me.  With the new awareness of partial seizures, I also have new incentive to keep my eyes open.  It seems that if I sense I am going blurry or dizzy, closing my eyes is one of the worst things I can do.  It un-grounds me... not a good thing when I am trying to stay grounded.  I am used to meditating with my eyes shut.  This Advent I am learning the blessedness of keeping my eyes open.  

Stay awake

And for God*s sake

Really I mean it

For God*s sake

Keep your eyes open!

You have no idea when the next thing

Will come around the bend.

The bush may blaze in your front yard.

The waters may part

In the creek out back.

The child who lives in your house

May dance on tiptoe.

Jesus may ring your doorbell

And ask

For a place to be born.

Keep your eyes open

For God*s sake.

You have only begun to see

What needs to be seen.

It is a veritable drop in the bucket.

Water shines even

In an old wooden bucket.

For God*s sake

Stay awake!

Open your eyes!

You have no inkling

When the next thing

Will come around

The bend.

Turns out this is about Advent too

No, I am not a baseball fan.  But I did have a series of dreams which seemed related and yet unresolved last night and this morning.  As I sit here drinking my morning coffee and getting my head around the day, I remember it is Advent after all.  It is about waking up and waiting. It is about paying attention.  The resolution is yet to come.

This morning I slept too long. 

I woke up and remembered snippets of

A kind of dream World Series,

Dream after dream after dream.

At game six somehow

It was tied.

I had already slept too long.

I didn*t stay in bed to attempt to find out

Who or what

Won.

Oddly I knew

There was at least one more dream waiting

To be slept through.

I woke up and knew

The resolution was yet to come

And

More sleep

Was not the answer.

The resolution was yet to come

And

It was time to get up.

I drink morning coffee

Out of my favorite ceramic cup,

Rough spots

Where the handle broke,

Warm in my hands.

I take my pills,

Begin to think about the day.

Awake!

Awake!!

Awake!!!

More sleep

Is not the answer.

Advent minutiae

I guess it is important somehow, amongst all the Advent minutiae...How best to wait?  Dancing seems like a good option, considering Who we*re waiting for...

Advent minutiae:

Candle and vestment colors:

Sarum blue versus

Purple,

An occasional rose

Held in our teeth;

The propriety

Of greens:

Decorated versus

Undecorated;

Holiday greetings held

Or extended;

In the midst of Advent minutiae

The unlikely Stephen Colbert

Dances on stage to

The King of Glory Comes

In flagrante.

Advent minutiae.

In the midst of minutiae we wait

And wait

Expectantly we wait,

Dance the Snoopy happy dance

In anticipation

Of the gift

Who waits for us.

Chamomile tea

I think I*m done with doctors for the time being.  Praise God.  Now I sit with a cup of chamomile tea warming my hands, wrapped in the soft navy blue blanket I received for Christmas last year.  I think of Peter Rabbit and his adventures.  I am glad to be home right now, contemplating a nap.

One more medical rule-out.

I am home with a cup

Of chamomile tea,

Something I have always associated

With Peter Rabbit,

British and warm and cozy.

Wrapped in the navy blue blanket,

I sip herbal tea (chamomile),

The hot drink Peter*s mother brewed for him

After his adventures

In Mr. McGregor*s cabbage patch.

One more medical rule-out.

Today warrants even more tea,

Perhaps a nap.

Today warrants a new day

Tomorrow.