September summer

sun glances shoulder

see sea of leaf-littered grass

warm weekend reprieve

Paul crawling

a backyard is an acreage

when you are only

one

and the big ball is kicked

to the far end

and you set out

on hands and knees

little legs pumping in opposing rhythm

to small hands

plowing through

prickly                   august                  grass

one goal in mind: GET THAT BALL!

brown eyes focused

oblivious to those

that can walk to the ball

at three times the speed

you just persevere

and finally grasp ball in both pudgy arms

and smoothly manoeuver to sitting position

ball         in            lap

satisfied 

summer (picking raspberries)

profuse red ripeness

hangs on every branch waiting

for careful fingers  

Ubi Caritas - Wedding Poem VII - Gerald and Lisa

she sits

he kneels

basin between

pitcher

white towel

wonder

these elements

he takes bare feet

clear water pouring

gentle caresses

and then the exchange

she kneels in wedding gown

beauty                  grace

takes off black shoes

abundant water

washing

these acts of servanthood

new rings glistening with clear droplets

in the background

Thomas sings

Ubi Caritas

ritual repetition

                charity

                love

                God

and we listen

                broken bread on our tables

these first fruits form foundation

wild hope: Canadian Mennonite Assembly 2014

it’s been raining

a downpour       a deluge

we are powerless to stop it

and we are building boats

folding paper precisely

according to directions

Kirsten guides us

until they are complete and identical

hope on the hull

wild hope

a christening

champagne bottles swinging singing crashing into presence

spraying fragrant wine

everywhere

all touched with unreasonable imaginings

drops of sweet beauty

there is a flood coming

tearing up the banks of a prairie river

and we must board our boats

and ride the wild waves in wild hope

of rediscovery of the truth of love

of finding the chaos and a new order

the storm is coming

wild winds of the hurricane

of the tornado uprooting trees

sending waves that will break the dikes

and we must wake the master

to still the sea and

calm

our fears

holding our boats in cupped hands

and turn the world

strings

we climb across

through

around

hope

grassy steps leading to hilltop

hands stringwrapped with our yellow balloons

some too little to know

some old enough to know all

all tied to single string known as

survivor

now standing together

ready to release our stringbound

hope

love

strength

determination

into the windy sky and

watch as if

it is

us rising

drifting on the breeze

until all we are

is a smudge of yellow in the hazy heaven

and we come back down

to world

of waiting for the

cure