Poems – Valerie's Voice

December Light

We woke up to six inches of snow Thursday morning. It’s been a while since that has happened. Last winter Minnesota was practically snowless. The fresh, white snow was pretty lying over the harvested cornfield outside the windows of our new sunroom.

Photo taken 12/20/24. The sun has come out!

It was cloudy when the full moon rose on December 15^th, but I can imagine the scene; moonlight on the field of freshly fallen snow. It reminded me of a poem I read recently:

December Moon

Before going to bed,
after a fall of snow,
I look out on the field shining
there in the moonlight.
So calm,
untouched and white.
Snow silence
fills my head after I leave 
the window.

Hours later, near dawn, when I look down again,
the whole landscape has changed.
The perfect surface gone, criss-crossed and written on
where the wild creatures ranged
while the moon rose and shone.

How much can come,
how much can go when
the December moon is bright.
What worlds of play
we’ll never know
sleeping away
the cold, white night
after a fall of snow.

~Author unknown

(This poems seems to be a rework of May Sarton’s December Moon poem: here is a link to May’s original poem. I cannot find any information on who wrote the words above.)

I like the image of animals leaving their tracks in the snow, as evidence of their nightly esapades. And, I’ve always be attracted to the moon and its tales and lores.

Light breaking through the clouds. 12/20/24

A lot is happening during this season of change…the full moon, the fresh snow, the winter solstice (December 21), which marks the longest night of the year. After Christmas with its many variations of light, after the New Year’s celebrations, after we settle into the new year, the days start getting longer in our corner of the world, and we will be gifted with more light, and that is very good.

Along the Sea

We were in Florida last week, on the gulf side, close to Clearwater Beach. It was beautiful. Sunny… every day, temperatures in the 80’s…every day.

We spent time near the water, and submerged ourselves in the water once. It felt wonderful. We walked along beaches and enjoyed the fine, white, sugar sand, and seeing the awesome shades of turquoise water, beautiful blue skies, shore birds, sea shells, sail boats. We “soaked” it all in…sun, waves, sea air, warm temps.

We didn’t know the name of these interesting shorebirds.

Usually when I am on the water’s edge I look for sea shells…(or rocks if I’m on Lake Superior’s rocky shore). I can’t help myself. As I walked along looking for shells I thought about a poem I wrote several years ago. I looked it up after we returned home and am sharing it below.

Along the Sea (2010)

Here I go again...
Walking along the beach,
Tides go out, tides come in,
I’m open to what it’ll teach.

Water rolling over the toes,
Sun sparkling across the sea,
The gentle sound of waves,
All soothes the core of me.

I walk along and sing psalms
As the pulsing waves repeat,
I feel a sense of calm
As my eyes draw to my feet.

I reach down for a token
From the bounty of the sea.
And check to see if it’s broken,
If so, I toss it back quickly.

I can’t resist, so I pick up more
Searching for one without mars,
Noting what likeness to people they bore,
Broken, wounded, with scars.

So, I start being less selective
And find new beauty in these...
My mind gently corrected
As I choose shells along the sea.

Cardinals

Below is a poem and a haiku I wrote for an assignment in my writing group. The cardinal is my favorite visitor to our yard, but I love to see them anywhere!

Take Flight 
 
The cardinal flies past the window and I know it’s melodious sound. 
For me, it is a love song, letting me know I am loved. 
His bright red color is like red lips kissing, touching the heart
And every time I see it I adore it more.
Through him God says, I see you, I know who you are and you are loved.
It reminds me what is important…family, faith, friends.
The fly-by is like a messenger delivering many thoughts saying
I am free, you can be free, take flight, be the adventurous person you are.
But then I sit back, a little anxious that I am being silly...
And writing this poem is like forbidden fruit and not worth anything.

Another assignment was a writing exercise and I ended up with three words: travel, fly and cardinal. I needed to use those three words to write a haiku.

Traveling by wings
A cardinal can bring much joy-
A bright red fly-by.

I Would Never…

Last week I posted a blog entitled The Color I Remember, an essay I wrote for an assignment with my writing companion. Today I am posting a poem she recently wrote for a different assignment entitled, I Would Never…

With her permission I have posted it below. Enjoy.

I Would Never …
By Sharon Ginter Eichhorn

Never is a powerful word.
Very finite, very fixed.
And so often that word,
well-intended and sincere, 
does not live up to the intensity,
the determined meaning of the word.
Rather, we in fact would, and often do,
the very things we said we would not.
People are, in general, well-intentioned,
good-hearted, rightly motivated.
But, in all of us is a weakness, 
a faltering humanness
that belies our good intentions.
Never is a powerful word. 
We must never use it lightly,
Because it is then that we might tumble,
we might prove the weakness of our humanity.
Instead, live your life always hoping…
hoping to be the person you want to be. 
Never asks too much, I think.
Never denies failings. 
Never damns humanness. 
Instead try, always, to hope, 
because hope never fails.

Summertime

Enjoy the Summer Solstice… today… June 21, 2019.

“On this day the length of time with sunlight is the longest.”*

Here are some excerpts from, A Summer Blessing, from the book entitled The Circle of Life.*

Blessed are you, summer,
season of long days and short nights,
you pour forth light from your golden orb,
energizing the earth and calling forth growth.
 
Blessed are you, summer,
with your generous gift of heat.
Your warm breath animates creation,
encouraging all growing things to stretch towards the sun.
 
Blessed are you, summer,
you call us into playfulness,
encouraging us to pause from work.
You renew our spirits.
 
Blessed are you, sacrament of summer, 
natures’ green season, sweet echo of spring.
You speak to us in living color as you renew the earth 
with symbols of life for our bodies and souls.
 
Blessed are you, summer,
with your firefly evenings
you minister to the child in us.
You feed our hunger for beauty.

* The Circle of Life by Joyce Rupp & Macrina Wiederkehr

Ruby Red

Today was my mother’s birthday. She would have been 96 years old. She died 10 years ago, in March 2009.

Ruby.
I’m not sure the date of this photo, but I like it.
I noticed she has a flower in her hair.

I wrote this note to her for her birthday in 1997.

Dear Mom,

You are a very special person and you are my mother. Thank you for the gift of life. My life has been blessed in many ways and you have stood up for me many times along the way. I know you have always wanted what was best for me. It’s nice to have come from a stable home.

You have been through many hard times, losing your mom at a young age, losing a baby and then losing your husband at age 50. I’m sure you have suffered more than we know. You have become very strong through it all and have taught me to be strong.

You have always been surrounded by many friends and that’s a blessing. Thanks for modeling the importance of friendships.

I was proud of the house on McKinley Street. It was special knowing dad built it. You always kept it looking beautiful, as you did your townhouse and your apartment in the retirement center. You are great at keeping your house in order. I know I picked up your organizational skills. You are also a good cook. I don’t think I picked up that skill. I wish I could make a roast like you do.

I have pleasant memories of our driving and camping vacations and the great times up at the trailer on Farm Island Lake. Thank you for those opportunities to enjoy God’s creation.

I love God’s ideas of families and always enjoyed the Christmas Eve and Easter celebrations with the extended family. I am glad to have shared them with my cousins and grandparents. Thank you for participating in those get -togethers.

You’ve been a ***grand***grandmother. Thanks for loving and caring for our children and being so very supportive of them.

Happy Birthday Mom. I love you.

Ruby Red

I wrote this poem after she died in March 2009.

Red was her color
Ruby was her name
Never much recognition
Never much fame

But she was a faithful mother,
A grandmother, a friend
Loved and cared by many
Generous to the end.

She surrounded herself with beauty
Both natural and man made
She had a green thumb for growing,
An eye for things that stayed.

From the house on McKinley
To the apartment at Meadowbrook
She kept her place beautiful
It was always fun to look.

Her fun sense of adventure
Took her on many fine trips
And hours of playing bridge
Kept her mind sharp and crisp.

Being with family and friends
Made her most content
She had much joy in remembering
Those times were well spent.

So here’s to Ruby
Whose color was red
God blessed her life to 86
An active life she led.

Christmas Tea

The meditation below came through on my email a couple of weeks ago. It pairs well with a Christmas cup of tea. (used with permission).

You must be completely awake in the present to enjoy the tea.
Only in the awareness of the present, can your hands feel the pleasant warmth of the cup.
Only in the present, can you savor the aroma, taste the sweetness, appreciate the delicacy.
If you are ruminating about the past, or worrying about the future, you will completely miss the experience of enjoying the cup of tea.
You will look down at the cup, and the tea will be gone.
Life is like that.
If you are not fully present, you will look around and it will be gone.
You will have missed the feel, the aroma, the delicacy and beauty of life.
It will seem to be speeding past you. The past is finished.
Learn from it and let it go.
The future is not even here yet. Plan for it, but do not waste your time worrying about it.
Worrying is worthless.
When you stop ruminating about what has already happened, when you stop worrying about what might never happen, then you will be in the present moment.
Then you will begin to experience joy in life.

Thich Nhat Hanh

First Snow

We woke up to snow on the ground this morning. It reminded me of a poem I wrote in 2002.

There is a place inside me that needs white –

Seeing the first snowfall draws a quick breath of contentment.

There is a place inside me that needs brown –

Smelling the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

There is a place inside me that needs golden yellow –

Feeling the warmth of a fire on this cool morning.

There is a place inside me that needs evergreen –

The beauty of an evergreen tree standing tall.

There is a place inside me that needs God –

To bring all things together in peace.

There is a place inside me that needs movement-

Rocking in a rocking chair moving closer to God in prayer.

Lake Superior – Here We Come

As we head up to my one of my all time favorite places I will re-post the psalm I wrote a few years ago. We typically rent a cabin in September and I consider it my “new year” since it is a relaxing, renewing and “reviewing” time for me…looking back on the past year and looking forward to the coming year. Click here to read my post on Anticipation from September 2016.

Lake Superior Psalm

The Lord is my Shepherd

I shall thank him.

He allows me to be on the shores of Lake Superior

And hear the calming waves.

He restores my soul.

He guides me on trails of the Superior National Forest

And leads me along the rocky shores.

Even when the waves are rough – even when the lake is calm,

I am content to being near the water.

And the Lord is with me;

His creation and His majesty, they comfort me.

He anoints me with many blessings

My cup overflows and I am grateful.

Surely I will praise him and follow him

All the days of my life,

I‘m grateful to dwell in His presence

On the shores of Lake Superior.

One Little Box

In the bedroom closet upstairs, tucked away on the top shelf, is a box.

It’s an old Gateway computer box with the Holstein cow pattern, and it’s only about 14” X 18” and 6” deep.

It doesn’t take up much space, this one little box, but, if you open it up, out pops one great, big surprise! Thirty-three years of calendars, thirty-three years of life, thirty-three years of recorded history from one small family. It contains years of appointments, church activities, school and sports activities, vacation schedules, birthdays, anniversaries, deaths, dinners, all kinds of celebrations etc….

It reminds me of a Jack-In-The-Box. Each year it springs open, I add another calendar, force the lid closed as it bursts with memories, and I put it away for safe keeping.

This one little box holds one big treasure.

And it’s amazing how little space this box takes, upstairs, tucked away on the top shelf of the bedroom closet.

I wrote this poem in 2012 and it reigns true today although I did have to put the Gateway box into a larger box to accommodate more calendars. I added another calendar this week.