Category: Grief

Early quiet . . .

Early quiet, as the day begins to grow. This Spring, I ordered used books from small stores at Amazon.

One good example is The Deep Place Where Nobody Goes: Conversations with God on the steps of my soul, by Jill Briscoe (published first in 2005; Monarch Books, UK). You can view the information at Amazon. Jill is gifted in many ways, and I especially enjoy her poetry and honest reflections about life and faith. And I like the book design – easy to read, with many colors and images.

The Milwaukee Homeless Veterans Initiative (MHVI) is serving many people, and they are “strong partners” with Goodwill.

late May garden

late May garden
more poems than I could
ever write

in loving memory
my parents and brother
we shall meet again

Study Poems and Seasons – 3

This post continues from Small Study Poems and Seasons – 1 and Study Poems and Seasons – 2. I looked at my archives so far this year.

grey sky
and evergreens
birch tree branches
snow and icicles
quiet colors

January 8, 2021

small study
sun reaches the painting
adds another layer

The painting is by Wendy Brightbill.

January 9, 2021

how many mornings
have I read and looked
at birch trees in sun
and blue sky?

and yet today
is the most beautiful

Blessed are they that mourn:
for they shall be comforted.

Matthew 5: 4 (KJV)

February 23, 2021

March days
time to observe
and watch for
all the beginnings
of Spring

March 4, 2021

the window
frames a picture

and other times
one small branch
is the poem –
ever green and a blue

From Art, Poems, Hope
March 20, 2021

in my study this morning
already light

small study
and books to read
days with longer light

April 16, 2021

used books
new for me
light on old
and new leaves
of a house plant

May 6, 2021

I look forward every day to poems, old and new. Today is Sunday, May 16, 2021. Thank you.

Photo by Frank Cone on
Photo by Petr Ganaj on

Memory and Hope

As Karl and I walked yesterday, we remembered neighbors who lived here when we bought our home a long time ago. What an honor to have met them. So often, when I read an obituary, there is a story of service and sacrifice. Their humility and kindness. My father was like that too. Veterans who lived to return home. And others who worked and served here. One of my uncles worked on the railroad. My mother was a teacher.

Everyone is needed and important.

And I remember this old poem.

ancient lilacs
cover the graves
Memorial Day

Published in SMILE (edited/published by Joyce M. Johnson); and Humoresque (for the United Amateur Press Association of America, edited/published by Jean Calkins).

And reprinted here first on May 26, 2010.

Photo by Eva Elijas on