Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Man

Leafing through a catalog
My mind began to drift
What is this I see
A man standing by a maple tree?
Doubt it was the intention
For it was no one he represented..
No lifestyle they'd be selling here-
Just he among
These trees & hedges
Like a far off nursery rhyme

I wondered at this kind of man
Who's clothes were out of time?
Then gathered in this quiet refrain
What nearly strained my mind

That it is we
Who have this treasure
In jars of clay
To show this power
Is not from us
For God has said-
Let light shine out of darkness
The light of the knowledge
Of the Glory of God
In the face of Christ

And we groan and are burdened
Wishing to be clothed
In our heavenly dwelling
So what is mortal
May be swallowed up by life
(Scripture taken from 2 Cor. 4 & 5)
gmarie-

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

The Harbour at Night

It won’t take a Pulitzer in poetry to recognize I am NOT a poet. But I love poetry and I have this book on how to write it which basically says “Just do it!” So here is an attempt. Although it isn’t overtly about faith, there is a subversive faithfulness living on a boat (as anywhere) which may or may not be caught here.

Thanks for having me,
Kim Petersen


There are certain elements of living
on a boat
that sink like a stone in slow motion
to the bottom of your soul.
Like now for instance
a stiff breeze blows
off the coast of northern Sardinia;
the resulting swell
curves around the breakwater
and hits each hull stacked
up like dominos
along the dock
at a slightly different interval
their rise and fall
reminds me of the human wave
rolling across Mile High Stadium
during a Bronco game.

With each upward motion
there is a crescendo of groaning lines
a creaking of fenders rubbing together
that blends
with the eerie howl of air
rushing by the mast of the sailboat next to us.
The winds version
of blowing
into a plastic 2 litre pop jug.

They are familiar sounds-
as familiar to me as breathing.

Somewhere
over the breakwater
ships make their way in the night;
but here in the harbour
we make ice cream sundaes
which drip on the floor and are licked up by the dog.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Grace

Grace comes,
softly unfolding
before us
as a river
finding its' course.

But,
although grace desires
to flow
gently
and softly
upon the landscape
of our souls;
it will not be stopped..

Grace will find
a way
to deal with
our hardness and
meanness of
heart.

It will break through,
surprising us with
its' power,
moving our
inner obstacles,
traversing our
personal deserts.

And we will
find ourselves
deepened
as we make room
for grace,
changed
as we yield to it's touch.

For grace will not
let us be
as we were,
but will find
a course, and
have its' way
with our hearts.

Grace comes,
God's gift,
re-moulding
our hearts,
our minds,
our lives..

Grace
has
won
my
heart
.
.
.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Got to Contemplating


While contemplating my present state
And rather attribute it’ all to fate
I figured in blooming, perhaps I was late
That for all my sincerity
It seems a bit queer
In extending a hand
Could lose you a fan

I gave some more thought
Then smoked a little pot (just teasing)
Now I’d set out to pray
Figuring it the best way

But all attempts you see,
Had been abruptly assailed-
Thoughts became scattered
Like moths in the night

I thought of my son
Probably caused him duress
My cheeky comments
To those blogs he’s been mounting
True true, it’s merely a guess
But just like a freight train
It picked up no less

Then Jennifer Anniston
And the fuss about her nose
Flooded my mind
Like a garden hose
Angelina Jolie, the U.N. and Brad
Those orphans and Billy Bob
An if that’s why he ran?

Closed my eyes tight
To help get a grip
Always conscious
Of my own little sin
But this proved brief
As I managed a spin
Perhaps that I should’a
Been on my knees

Now it’s all just a blur
Why it occurred just then
That I’d never tried
Any Limburger Cheese!

Then I thought of the poor lady
All covered with burns
Wondered at the menu...
An the sausage she’d ordered,
All smothered in rum?
The waiter who lit it
Their party gone numb

Before you get to feeling
Ever so obliged
Offering advice
Be it humble or nice
Just make sure
It hasn’t happened
To you more than twice-

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Myna's & Mulberries

Thanks to my son Jesse, I've made friends with the common Myna. He retrieved them from under the eves of his friends new house while helping him with the roofing. Although I hand fed them from babies, I'm sure we could of developed a tighter bond if there were just one and not three!


See, our Love Bird Peach generally gets to fly around the room for a spell -once in the morning and once in the evening. One reason the Myna's don't is because their poop is triple the size of his, ya. Makes sense huh?!


Well, a friend of mine happens to have three as well. So when she realized I move their cage outside like her in the morning, she suggested I might want to use a small cage for easy transport...this was after I pointed out a small scratch I made on the couch. Soo, I plunked a small dog kennel outside under the avocado tree (where they stay) instead and proceeded to cart them out one by one.
The last one managed to get loose then flew into the wild blue yonder...up up an away. That's just what it looked like- first on top of an Ohia- then up on over into the forest he went.

Truthfully, I didn't hold out much hope of seeing him again. Evidently he nevah had a plan...couldn't catch a worm even if his life depended on it. In the morning Jesse & Joe were trying to situate the cage where he could easily enter.
Well, he ended up on the lower limb of the avocado tree and appeared to be a bit hungry. I shook the food dish and gave him a few pieces...then he actually scooted on into the open kennel! Amazing!

OK, so the next two shots here are of the Mulberry tree. One is a view of the last of a few wonderful berries I'd been harvesting now for the past month or so. The other is supposed to be a half eaten one but Joe (my husband) was in a hurry to ride his motorcycle, so the photo he took is a bit of a blur but it looks more like it's undeveloped. I would try to get out there before any of the birds got a crack at them. I'd circle this tree and couldn't help turning my nose up at the half eaten fruit...but then I realized, this was God's way of providing for them. I mean, we took these birds in as a necessity but out there in nature our Heavenly Father promises to take care of the birds of the air.

I can't complain either, I made two Mulberry/Rhubarb pies and a bottle of syrup. I bet Claudia's made Mulberry wine? Anyway, I have one more bag in the freezer to boot.




Delicious Mulberry Rhubarb Pie w/Crust

2 1/2 cups mulberries
1 1/2 cups finely chopped rhubarb
1 1/4 cups raw sugar
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon butter
1 recipe pastry for a 9 inch single crust pie

Mix together mulberries, rhubarb, sugar, and flour.
Pour into unbaked 9 inch pie shell. Dot filling with butter and add top crust.
Bake at 400 degrees F (205 degrees C) for 15 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Bake until pie is done, about 30 minutes. Enjoy-

Crust:
1 & 1/4 Cups flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup butter
1/4 Cup ice water

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

My Intro Into Organized Religion & The Educational System


My Intro Into Organized Religion & The Educational System

I tend to forget much with the passage of time, but have noticed some windows can still be viewed with amazing clarity just by the impressions made. Looking through one such window takes me back to a brief period of time I’d spent during my formative years growing up in S. Cal. By the way, in order to stay on track, I’m not going to delve into my experience with the public school system for which I spent a number of years…but let me put it this way, due in part to both; you could say I have a problem with blackboards maybe in the same way a dog might take issue with a broomstick!

My dad once told me "you'll either grow up to be a basket weaver or you'll have to marry someone rich" This lie coupled with my own recognition of failure and limitation was exactly what set me free...but not free necessarily from the result of stupidity.

Was my spiritual awareness really opened for the first time during a typical morning drive? It would be one of many I'd take with my mom and siblings while passing the convent on my way to what would be a brief time spent at St. John’s elementary school.

I remember vividly, thinking in my young mind (that of a first and second grader)-what it must be like to know those Holy but loving people who lived there? I mean I assumed the setting of the church convent must have indicated a spiritual connection? Leaves fell and scattered as we turned the corner. Behind the low trailing wall the sheer beauty of those lovely premises beckoned and seemed to speak of what must lay beyond giant trees casting huge shadows over mysterious grounds; creating an ere of enchantment. I was rather astonished at what I encountered, as I discovered it had nothing to do with it?

I can recall without much difficulty, the habits the nuns wore, the way they carried themselves (with an overall aloofness) -set against the stark backdrop of large imposing blackboards, towering over those old wooden desks. Here we sat, dressed in soft brown and white uniforms with similar matching shoes and haircuts staring up beside neat rows- rows from which I can still recount the sensation of long voluminous black robes as they brushed against my leg. I can tell you just what it felt like to have my chair yanked up to the front for talking too much...only because it happen so often. An older student and friend of my brother happened to come into the room on occasion. He asked later if that's where I always sat?

Funny, this stands out like an odd penciled sketch… as if to say no, I wasn’t really mistreated, yet it’s the irony now over the absence of much life (what religion generally represents). I mean the student’s are dressed in a way that identifies them with the school and religion they’re affiliated with; similarly, the nuns and priests dress and reflect the religious order they took their vows with. Still, I realize with either public or private school you have to account for the large classroom size and the fact each child can’t receive adequate attention unless they happen to be singled out (negatively or positively), hmm??

To be fair, I have to mention why I’m still grateful for Catholicism to this day. It’s significant in that as much as my parents devoted themselves to this religion and its principals, our family in turn benefited. For example, they basically followed the Ten Commandments and taught us the same, so as a result they remained faithful to one another; therefore marriage was seen as sacred. There was love and consistency through the meals my mom prepared as well as my dad getting up and going to work -both everyday. Homework and chores were expected and television and movies were carefully monitored. Besides a strong work ethic, they exemplified moderation. All of this provided cohesiveness, structure and discipline; grateful for all I could rely on, later in life.

I believe they laid out what they felt was important, and helped them -then tried to demonstrate this as best they could; hoping for what we could in turn fall back on as well. But all these I mention are and were flawed because each individual simply has free choice. So, it all trickled down like water- despite failure and the many inconsistencies. But you have the law so it’s important to note that there was and is, always a choice -either a wrong or right spirit in response to that law.

Well my observation in regard to school, typically, those who were more academically inclined seem to do pretty well…they were treated better too. Of course things tend to shift according to ones circumstances but if you were a teacher, what pupil would you rather have in class; one who stares out the window daydreaming, chatters- while unable to concentrate like I was, or one who just went with the plan? If we did poorly, it was never the teacher’s/systems fault I might add.

So was it the misery of not knowing how to confront in the early days when I tried desperately to fight back, but found no words? Then the reality behind 1 Co. 1:27-But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God has chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty;

I think I would of been as bitter as the next person but somehow I wanted a solution, this coupled with a drive, lying mostly shrouded in a mysterious canopy that captivated me.... the mystery unfolding... always just ahead, silently but powerfully leading me on. Initially, it wasn't something I could really define but- would discover, propelled me like a mighty wind. You could say it was like layers of deception that had poked through the fabric- this despite all efforts to conceal it.
Developing...