~By Carol Bindel
In her November 12 post, "Inspiration and Perspiration, A Study In Balance," Kathleen Harms speaks of fear.
Oh, yes. Fear of all kinds holds us back. One of the fears I recognize in myself (and there are many) is the fear of exposing too much of myself to the "wrong" people, ones who may take advantage, do me injury.This fear has encouraged me to hold my words close within a small circle of known friends and family.
But it is Christmas, the time of giving. A gift requires one to give and one to receive. I would give you this poem, a small gift. Do you wish to receive?
Light
__following Papa and Mama
__who always reached for agape love,
__and wouldn't they be astonished
to see the flame
so bright, warm and calm
on five folding tables
borrowed from church
covered with white
table paper
candles
and a vase of flowers, centered
on each table set for ten
with silverware, water cups, napkins,
plates with the buffet spread on oak
deacon-bench tables that line one wall,
covered with dish after dish of food
in the basement
with a wood-stove fire glowing
at the end of the room opposite
steps, steep and narrow enough,
forty eight gathered
siblings, spouses, offspring,
three generations
aged two to seventy seven
stand, a circle around the room,
bow our heads for the preacher
to invoke the Dear Heavenly Father
to bless us in Jesus' name
then sing
a cappella
in glorious, four part
harmony,
Praise God from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly host
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Amen.
while my son shelters under his arm
the Jewish girl among us
while the daughter
of the newly bankrupt couple
looks at the floor, blond hair
swung forward hiding her face
while the recently separated one
clenches his hands, white knuckled,
and we all observe without comment
the absence of his wife and two children
while one grieves her dear
old horse put down two weeks ago
on the day we still mourn
the anniversary of Eva's death,
our beloved sister-in-law, aunt,
grandmother, sister, mother, wife,
too young, eleven years now
while one savors success—
new degree, new job—
and two treasure the secret
of new life growing
my sister the hostess
releases the reigns of organization
allowing the day to flow
forward, as it will
we celebrate
enduring, ephemeral ties
see the candle.
Be the candle.
~Carol Bindel
1 comment:
Thank you my dear friend.
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