Thursday, February 28, 2013

Singing of The Sacred Spirit

I'm overwhelmed with gratitude, when going grocery shopping;
I am able to purchase our desires, without budgetary stopping.
It is a constant reminder to me that my husband's years of denial
Daily save me from many of my fellow American's trials.

I do not deserve the largess he has shared freely with me,
And the many gifts he's given my friends and my family.
I often ask what he desires from his one and only wife;
He says, repeatedly, that my friendship continues to suffice.

My children love me in the same way, adding to my joy.
With balance in relationships, I try not to toy.
I've never been able to figure out what I owe in return
So my passionate gratitude, sometimes, too hotly burns.

Is pure, sweet love and admiration such a rare human thing
That unconditional acceptance, such gifts of gratitude brings?
I'm blessed by many in my life with mutual admiration societies;
Our shared peaceful presence is that by which we're pleased.

I have a brother who once told me my gift is appreciation;
How can it be that such a simple thing causes such celebration?
And how is it that so many that I've most admired
Have pointed out that my love of them only makes them tired?

Perhaps the term they mean to use is that they're overwhelmed;
So many of us have grown up with fear at our life's helm.
It may be difficult to accept the power of a Sacred wind,
When we have been taught to focus on our own and others' sins.

Perhaps if we can refocus on humanity's grand celebrations,
We'll find peace and prosperity in all the vastness of creation.
When we stop believing that our value is simply tribal,
We may live with gratitude for others, rather than in denial.

There's no religion that doesn't have roots in those before them;
Seeking The Sacred Spirit is reserved for only humans.
I believe we would be more satisfied if we stopped limiting
Our view of The Sacred Spirit to what only a few mystics bring.

The water outside my door I share with the country of Mexico;
This is also where the hummingbirds I know, seasonally go.
Some of my grandchildren, by chance, share this heritage
But many would like to wipe Mexicans off our country's grid.

Some of my best friends are Sicilian, with all the passion that entails.
When did the definition of passion insist that suffering prevails?
Laughter, tears, speech, singing, and other physical endeavors,
Are ways to express excess passion in which only humans are clever.

Why do we, in our embracing of America's Puritanical society,
Continue electing representatives who share in community hypocrisy?
I want to see how each person channels their gratitude and appreciation
In building, not their own power bases, but the strength of our nation.

Until I hear more of appreciation and grateful humility
For the incredible gift of being born in the land of the free,
I will continue, against the wealthy, white Anglo-Saxon males
Who have been taught that they have a "god"-given right to prevail.

I also continue to rail against the women who believe their wombs
Give them the right to control lives from pre-conception to tombs.
The secret of eternal success in the peace of humanity
Is in the sharing equally in resources, it seems to me.

The wars and rules that we perpetrate, at the expense of others,
Pass the resentments and revenge down to future sisters and brothers.
Has there ever been a culture of humans around our earth
That hasn't contributed to our uniquely American rebirth?

I am cowed by the gratitude to have been born in this land,
And to have been given freely more than I'd ever demand.
It takes my breath away, whenever I stop to realize,
That I'm the product of The Sacred Spirits that some friends despise.

How can I ever thank the black women who loved and nurtured me,
When my own mother and her mother lacked that loving ability?
How can I spread the word that passion is a wonderful gift
To the many of my friends who only trust in thrift?

It saddens me so that so many are happy for me,
While keeping their own lives and loves, celebration free.
I have tried for the last few years to turn my back on celebration,
But it's led me right back to the reason for my creation.

What can be any easier that to go around appreciating
The qualities in others who were, for acceptance, waiting?
Could it be that this is a truly Sacred Spirit vocation,
Not requiring any suffering martyr aspirations?

My husband doesn't seem to believe that I lack
Any  proper wife skills in which I feel I'm slack.
Many of my friends seem perfectly satisfied by my presence.
Are my attempts to repay them simply arrogant pretense?

I find it hard to believe that my presence on the earth
Is enough to justify the blessings of my birth.
Can it be true that I am admonished to only continue singing
About all the blessings that The Sacred Spirit is bringing?

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Seeing The Sacred Spirit

Until we stop worshiping a "god' of war and blood-lust, I don't see our earth becoming what we envision as heaven, nor do I see the Israelites ever being at peace. Jesus said that the men of the bible were hard-hearted toward women, and yet we still justify our actions by following these men. Jesus exemplified compassionate friendship with women and men from all religions and walks of life. He treated them with respectful compassion, as he did those who were his friends.

Jesus is portrayed as a real man, with a special respect for his mother and father, even as a teenager. He is also portrayed as having a special relationship with a woman of flesh and blood, kissing her often. Perhaps he never married and bore children in compassion for how persecuted his family would be because of his actions and beliefs.

Jesus had a real legal father, whether by adoption or sex is unimportant in appreciating the example that Jesus set for compassionate community. I choose to believe that Jesus was especially enlightened by The Sacred Spirit nurtured by his earthly Jewish family and community in which they brought him to adulthood. I choose to believe that nature, as well as nurture, endowed him with a marvelously strong and Sacred Spirit that burns to this day in the souls of those who live lives of respectful compassion for all of creation.

I believe that our understanding of The Sacred Spirit must evolve with the nature of humanity. We should not limit our seeking to only the manifestations passed down by our ancestors. Ancient man was the most powerful human form, with his greater physical strength and his ability to reason. In seeing the spark of The Sacred Spirit in man, man began to worship himself by putting his own face on "god." Was this a reaction to the awe that man experienced at the power of woman to "create" human life?

Isn't it time that we stop fearing feelings of awe that make us feel vulnerable? Isn't it time that we celebrate and embrace that which makes us wonder, without attempting to bring everything down to our capacity to identify everything, physical and spiritual, with absolute precision? Even science understands that what we accept as truths are only what existing information allows us to see today.

We must all embrace our own vulnerabilities and those of others. Vulnerability is the only way that we bond with the spirits of others. It is wrong to ridicule and otherwise abuse vulnerabilities instead of looking for ways that we can complete each other. It is wrong to hand absolute power to any one person, whether in governments, religions, or families. All manifestations of The Sacred Spirit are, by their very natures, interdependent. Religions teach that all manifestations of The Sacred Spirit return back to their source for renewal and resurrection. And scientists know that all energy continues; it simply transforms from one manifestation to another.

I believe it is time that we shake off the shackles of fear of the unknown and immerse ourselves in celebratory compassion for what we experience as enlightening. I am not afraid of burning in hell; I am afraid of being so afraid of making mistakes that I forget to embrace life and love. While I live, I will continue to attempt to share a bit of my view of how to see and live "heaven on earth" and be a devoutly respectful Israelite (one who struggles with The Sacred Spirit in creation and tries to remain faithful).

I am one woman, born of Judeo-Christian man and woman, seeking to see The Sacred Spirit in all I encounter on earth.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Serenity and the Sacred Spirit

Monday, February 25, 2013

Blessings of My Baby Sister

It all boils down to what do we want the most, approval of others or approval of ourselves. I know a great many people who never ask themselves about their own priorities, and many who act as if all their desires are "god" ordained to be filled immediately by others. I like to live with a balance of self and other's approval; it's a good yardstick for measuring my balance with the rest of creation.

It is true that I've not always been discriminating enough in choosing those with whom I want to commune; there are many who will attempt to bring me down no matter how hard I try to share insights with them. A friend of mine who is into Buddhism says that we simply need to know what the boundaries are for our own "gardens."

A couple of years ago, when we were gardening with Mountain Mama, another family decided to plant their own plot next to ours. They contended that weeds were good for the soil surrounding their vegetable plants. They refused to use insecticidal sprays or weed their plot. They also refused to plant in rows with space for tilling. Mountain Mama contends that they had a very poor yield, but we were too busy our plot to do a comparison. I do know that their decisions made our gardening more difficult.

For years, I had not heard about tending our own gardens. I allowed others to enter our home and lives without laying down rules for sharing space in our hearts or homes. The weeds grew so strong that they overshadowed our relationship, threatening to suck the life out of all we had so long worked to attain. I had to ask myself what is the order of my priorities and the boundaries of my spiritual and emotional garden?

Once I realized that my children and the children of my siblings were all well into adulthood, and that I could no longer guide their growth, I could see that my garden was my relationship with myself and my husband. I have taken much time to feed both of our spirits without inviting in those who would suck us dry. We are still willing to share our Sacred Spirits with others, but only if we are not expected to allow the weeds of others to encroach upon our garden.

I am still working through the guilt of feeling selfish for self-preservation without the justification that I must survive to bring up my babies. My writing and relationships refresh my spirit by bringing in the spirits of others to nourish the garden of my soul. I am working hard at approving of myself. With the sharing of The Sacred Spirit coming from my friends and some family, I think I may succeed in blooming.

My recent time with Mountain Mama and the last twenty-four hours with my baby sister have been a great blessing to me and my garden.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Competition, Corporations, and Christianity

Jesus, our most famous Jew, encouraged cooperation; he also spoke very harshly to those who incorporated competition into their ideas of salvation. And yet, after almost two thousand years, we are still fighting. "My daddy (God) is bigger than your daddy (God)" and "My daddy (God) likes me more than he likes you." Not until we stop limiting The Sacred Spirit to the faces and motivations of humanity will we "get" it. We all have places on the tree of life, if we simply choose to grow as a small part of a huge system, not worrying about whether the blossom is better than the bark, or the leaves are more important than the seeds. In the grand scheme of nature, even death feeds new life.

In the tiny Appalachian community of Coker Creek, there is still the institutional memory for the most American of values, cooperation. In industrialized America, we have forgotten these virtues; greed has long since supplanted human need. It is a travesty of Christianity to continue to call America a Christian country while we allow corporations to create poverty for the majority of our citizenry. Poverty is, and always has been, powerlessness. Slavery, lack of access to conception control, and herding of humans into cages for the purposes of corporate convenience has created a frightened caged-animal society.

In the beginnings of American immigration law, we had people declare their abilities and prove that they had places to contribute to our society in productive manners. We also had families and friends identified who would vouch for those entering our country. Our corporations are protected from any responsibility in the dehumanizing affects of creating their human automatons, and yet our Supreme Court offers them protections as people with conscience and culpability. There is no Christianity in corporations because there is no personal accountability. Christians are, by definition, cooperative and accountable to each other.

Christian cooperation still works in parts of rural America. Those who have been around forever don't easily accept outsiders; they look for others of "good (productive) character" to vouch for the integrity of the newcomers. They are happy to teach you what they know about survival, but only answer questions that others respectfully ask. The community long survived by trading goods, information, and talents with neighbors. Much is accomplished by barter.

Unfortunately, without increasing the numbers of families willing to go back to the times when we knew and taught the difference between need and greed, our country continues to make a mockery of the bedrock values that made Judeo-Christianity (and our early small communities) great. Unfettered capitalism has replaced Judeo-Christianity, pretending that worldly material success and leadership by fear is "God" ordained.

We continue to feed the anonymous, unaccountable masses created by corporate greed, crumbs from our tables to keep them out of our orchards, where they should be picking the ten percent we leave on our vines. We don't press them to learn how to do for themselves by assisting and asking respectful questions of those who know how to "make do." We treat children and the poor like dogs that are acceptable as long as they are not visible or raising their voices.

We have allowed religions to hand out tax-payer funds as if they were donations of charity. We have created a devil's deal by allowing clergy to preside over legal contracts. The "God' that is on our money is the god of greed. The "God" in our Pledge of Allegiance is the god of war. Is it any wonder that so many of our youth are anesthetizing themselves instead of continuing to search for good examples in their own communities?  Is it any wonder that so many people are rejecting the man-made faces of "God?"

The mission of the masses is to see and connect to The Sacred Spirit in all of society. We must help each other to identify, trade, and teach our strengths fairly and respectfully. Maybe rural boot camps for all citizens would be a place to start. It was successful as The CCC during The Great Depression; it can succeed again. Coker Creek could serve as a model classroom. Mountain Mama Mamie could be our Appalachian Survival School's dean.

The Ruritan Club could serve as headquarters, and the Coker Creek Elementary School could teach Appalachian community ways. Housing and additional classroom space for teachers and students could be provided by Coker Creek Christian Camp, Coker Creek Village, and the various rental properties in the area. The Heritage group could recruit instructors and advertise programs. The properties that are being used in the traditional ways would be classrooms for practical internships.

Let's create communities instead of relying on the bubbles that corporations build and destroy at will.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Males, Females, and Faith

The Arts of Manhood
February 1, 2013 By  ://

The author of this blog post posits a list of characteristics that define "real" men. This prompted a cry regarding the definition of "real" women from a man who had been abused. As the divorced mother of  grown children, both male and female, both with teen children of their own, I have this to offer:

Real men are built by real women who are not afraid to truly love the boy in the man, warts and all. Too many women allow their boys to raise themselves in the packs of male animals roaming our streets. Others deny and disrespect those qualities in boys that define them as male. So many boys are torn from their mothers because the mothers refuse to fight for their young men long enough for them to become "real" men. This includes sheltering our boys from the wiles of women who want to take advantage of their innocence to build themselves up in the eyes of their own societies, or to garner societal support through their production of progeny.

The building of "real" men and women is an almost impossible task when we have so much of our "godly" society following the paths of the gods of blood sacrifice and war, but it can be accomplished when we love our sons and daughters enough to protect them. Sadly, too many of their fathers promote disdain for the love of a woman and counterfeit ways for their daughters to seek support.

Too many men are taught to hide their vulnerabilities by exhibiting animal behaviors of territorial cruelty. Too many women are taught to use their sexuality as a trap for the unsuspecting male. Too many in our society who call themselves 'Christian" accept animal instinctual behaviors as "the way we are made." We may have been made as animals, but it is a part of our religious ethic that we teach our children to rise above animal instinct. We do this by example, as well as by our words.

In our feminist society, we have sought to diminish men. This is probably in retaliation for the diminishment of women, caused by fear of the power of procreation obvious in a woman's body, but less so in that of males. It is time that we realize that people are meant to seek balance in partnerships and that procreation is only sacred when we honor both sides of the seeds that create life. Even without procreation, all energy is meant to be expanded by balance of strengths and weaknesses and respect for all that is part of nature.

For those of a "Christian" culture, ask yourselves, "Why did your god desire a woman to create your savior?" If god is a male, he must have thought that the Y chromosome was important to balance in creation, but he did not create this new breed of man without a balance of the yin and yang. I am so very tired of the pendulum swings. It is time that we all stand for respect and balance in nature and the responsibility to guide this given only to the human animal.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

In the Eyes of Others

What we see reflected in the eyes of others,
Especially the eyes of our fathers and mothers,
Is a great influence on that which we become.
This can be the greatest life's tragedy for some.

For weeks, I have basked in celebrations,
And was rewarded with much admiration
By those who believe I have great value,
Not based on what I think, say, or do.

We all need networks of unqualified support,
To which we can, in times of stress, resort.
For many, there is nobody to respect
Our intrinsic values that society rejects.

Many, in their relationships, seek their own reflections;
What they see should often lead to introspection.
The great danger is when what they see brings shame
For the observer's own weaknesses, the observed is to blame.

We sometimes have to die to those whose refrains
Are filled with reasons we deserve their disdain.
We may be blessed along our life's new path
With freshly-found friendships that will hold fast.

I feel that I have been brought to death many times,
Though the killing of souls is not considered a crime.
I have somehow always been blessed with new energy
For returning fully to who and what I am meant to be.

And there have been times that my grief in lost love
Has created shared Spirit that's thicker than blood.
When we seek to enjoy others, rather than control,
Our conjoined spirits may make us both more whole.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Being Bonded in The Sacred Spirit

As wild animals, we are mostly motivated by fear. As beings into whom The Sacred Spirit has been breathed, we become motivated by the security of being bonded to something greater than ourselves. Some may call the desire to continue this inclusion a form of fear, but I believe it is something much more deeply spiritual than that.

Before we are born, we can feel our mother's reactions to our presence in her womb. Much of how she feels about our unborn essence is shaped by the circumstances of our conception and the treatment of her by those who surround her in her time of greatest vulnerability. As she rejoices in our inclusion in her life, our Sacred Spirits begin to grow. If her spirit resents or rejects us, either while we are in her womb or after our births, our Sacred Spirits begin to wither.

Upon our birth, if we are loved, our parents breathe their spirits into our nostrils and share their souls with ours. We are one with our protective parents. This bond becomes unbreakable when it is a true and unselfish sharing of The Sacred Spirit.

In healthy relationships, the family is strong enough in their bonds and boundaries to include others in their web of family and faith until the children are able to form their own separate families. In unhealthy relationships, the parents either seek to live through their children or send their children out on their own before their spirits are fully formed.

Without proper spiritual bonding and boundaries, we are nothing but wild animals, led by fear. This is not what humanity is meant to be. Why have we fallen for the interpretations of scripture that present The Sacred Spirit as a blood-thirsty force for fear instead of a protective parent breathing the breath of life into all creation?

My vision of The Sacred Spirit is not as King, Lord, or Master, but as The Breath of Loving Life that I feel breathed into my nostrils and poured into my soul by those who truly love me without self-serving motives. My attempts to stay included in their auras is not motivated by fear, but by a deep longing for their spiritual sharing with me.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

My New Mountain Mission

I've been blessed by a new mission while visiting my mountain mama, as is fitting because her family hadso much to do with what I will be working with. Last Monday evening, we attended February's monthly meeting of the Coker Creek Ruritan Club, which was founded by her family and several other long-term residents of Coker Creek. As a rural civic organization, much like Kiwainis or Civitans, the club exists to benefit the local people and community.

Richard has served on their board and I've participated with him, giving us both the opportunity to get to know many of the nicest people in the area, through serving with them. My attendance at the potluck supper meeting with Mountain Mama started me on my new journey. I became reacquainted with Jill Franklin, the principal of Coker Creek Elementary School, a mission that I've been interested in assisting for some time. We discussed the possibility of using my latest book about Coker Creek to help with fundraising for this extremely important hub of the community, for which the Murphy family donated much of the land.

I also ran into Mary Jane, who will be assisting in promoting Coker Creek's heritage through a newly designed website. I had offered to help write for her efforts. At the meeting she gladly accepted my offer.

This morning, I took the opportunity to pay a visit to Jill at the school. What a wonderful surprise awaited me when I walked in without an appointment; the principal was standing in the office. I explained to her that much of my writing is a celebration of the family life of Coker Creek, and that I would like to help promote more of this, through the use of my books. She, in turn, shared that she was attempting to start an after-school care program at her school to assist in the efforts to attract more working families to send their children to this local rural school. What a match made in heaven are her goals and my interests and talents!

To add icing to the already rich cake of community involvement, I ran into my across-the-hill neighbors, Terry and Cassie, while at the school. Our delightful chat about my assisting with next year's school Mardi Gras celebration was followed by a visit to our favorite Coker Creek gold prospector, Bill, and his wife, Marsh Jean, who have twin boys at Coker Creek Elementary. Bill had a professional Foosball table for sale that will be perfect for our rental cabin game room, and Marsha Jean is interested in learning how to write grants.Blessings abound!

I am so excited about working closely with all these woman that I so admire and love, and to many more excuses for trips to see my mountain mama.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Keeping Pace With a Powerhouse

I began yesterday in the company of my oh-so-enthusiastic oldest granddaughter. Within the space of two hours, I picked her up from her dorm, took her to breakfast, shopped with her for an umbrella and rain boots, shopped for fish at a food market, and dropped her back on her campus. I ended the day with my mountain mama and the fine folks of the Coker Creek Ruritan club, most of whom are long retired. Mountain Mama spent much of her time talking with the second oldest member of the club, a mere ninety years old, three years her junior.

Upon my awakening this morning, Mountain Mama had coffee brewing, bacon almost done, and slices of Mary Sue's homemade bread ready for toasting. She allowed me at the stove to fry our eggs to order, the eggs being those that she brought in from her hen house last evening. She was then ready to get our day started.

We began with her insistance that we invite a few friends over for supper. Josie and Adam weren't even awake yet, but I fixed that with my phone call. Meanwhile, Mamie made phone calls to ascertain whether the family that is slated to rent one of her apartments is ready to move in. When she and I both received affirmative answers, we had missions to accomplish. It was first time to remove all the Mamie's dishes and linens out of the apartment to make room for those of the new family.

We swept the garage floor to ready it for storage and made many trips up and down the steep stairs from the garage to the apartment. We moved furniture, swept floors, and changed lightbulbs. She, thankfully, allowed me to be her pack mule up and down the stairs, but much to my dismay, she insisted on climbing on chairs and a step ladder to reach a couple of things for herself. I was thrilled when, after two hours, she decided that we needed to take a break.

Our break lasted all of ten minutes; then it was time to start thinking about our supper menu. Since slaw was in the offing, this led to a trip to the garden to pull up some carrots. I needed to go to town for some prescriptions, so we made a grocery list. Mamie broke off from washing carrots long enough to have a bite of lunch, after which I drove to the next-door post office for her mail. I know she'll always take a break to read her mail, and I really like to encourage her not to exhaust herself. When I returned with her mail after ten minutes, she had already put on the iced tea for tonight.

What a whirling dervish she still is, even at ninety-three. I was happy to have a good excuse to drive around for a while; I needed a rest. I'm sure we'll both be beating the pots and pans when I return to her house.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Savoring My Children's Sprits

Letting go of them is the hardest thing a parent can do,
Knowing our children are protected by a very few.
It is easy to interfere when we offer our protection,
Risking that this will lead to our own rejection.

When our adult children finally break away,
It hard to know what to do or what to say.
When we release them, we pray for their return,
Knowing there are lessons they still have to learn.

They and their children have so much to teach me;
My enthusiasm for them is often perceived as greed.
My prayers have been for them to have loving others
To protect them when they lose me, their mother.

The greatest earthly blessing that they can give me
Is showing me they're safe in their own families.
They have each other to share their history
Even if their families' futures do not include me.

I always knew they were not given to me, but lent,
And that, as their mother, I'd have much to repent.
I am willing to, our adult friendships sacrifice,
If my absence makes, for each of them, a better life.

Life without enjoying our shared memories
Is not an old age by which I'm most pleased,
But I am willing do whatever I must
To remain an elder friend in whom they can trust.

They may not always like me; we often disagree,
But my love and respect I hope they both see.
I stand at the door with my arms outstretched,
Available to them if, my friendship, they elect.

On this Sacred Sunday, I think of them with no tears;
I seem to have finally let go of my motherly fears.
I feel at peace with whatever they, as adults, choose.
Their Sacred Spirits live on in me; these I can't lose.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Men of Ministry

I see so many men struggling with what they are supposed to be;
We used to expect them to strut their strengths for all to see.
We got lonesome when they died, and we lived so very long.
We women, who love them, are now teaching them our songs.

So many of them cook and clean while we're on the run;
They are now creating friendships simply to share in fun.
These posses will band together to help us protect the young,
Even when those we women choose to protect are very far-flung.

Men grew tired of pretending strength while we pretend to be weak;
It's not easy defining roles in the partnerships we now seek.
A world of sharing resources is what The Sacred Spirit projected;
It takes head and heart from all of us for our earth to be protected.

Why do we continue to kill humans after all these generations?
Why do we continue to divide ourselves into earthly nations?
We are all The Body Human, endowed with The Sacred Spirit.
We must learn to sing loud enough so the whole earth will hear it.

We must stop promoting fear as a way to change the hearts of others;
We must stop ridiculing men who wish to learn from their mothers.
We must expect and teach our men to hold and cherish our babes;
Perhaps they will then realize that no person should be another's slave.

When we allow our boys to enjoy many years of innocence,
Perhaps The Sacred Spirit will leave a greater imprint.
A man who learns to hold a baby gently in his own arms,
Is a man much less likely to wish any life on earth harm.


Friday, February 8, 2013

We Belong to a Mutual Aggravation Society, My Mamie and Me.

Some people simply enter our souls and never leave again.
We may spend little time with them, but their spirits we retain.
I confessed to Mountain Mama that I'm greedy for time with her;
Our relationship isn't, with emotional baggage, hampered.

She reminds me regularly that she likes to aggravate me;
I tell her I'm as aggravating as anybody can possibly be.

We agree that parenthood is the most important job on earth,
But she's not sure that fathers can take over after we give birth.

We cook together, cry together, laugh and complain
She says that we women should, over the world, reign.

I remind her that the only thing holding us back
Is the fear that, for our strengths, we will be attacked.

She is rightfully proud of her many management skills.
"What do you think?" is her entree to me being grilled.
We congratulate each other on the things we do the same,
Avoiding admitting differences is a favorite of our games.

When we can't ignore a disagreement, we agree to learn
The way each other does things, so neither feels spurned.
If every one of our elders was willing to learn from their young,
Perhaps the future's possibilities, by all of us, would be sung.
She married and gave birth very young, educating herself;
For all her reading material, there aren't enough shelves.
Her interest in people is another form of her education;
Her friends include people from every state in the nation

Her four children all grew to be responsible citizens;
They all seemed to consider their mother their best friend.
She lost a son to death, a daughter to Alzheimer's dementia;
Still, her life is family, friend, faith, feeding folks, and fun centered.

When I am in her home, to her will, I always try to defer;
This is a sign of homeowner's respect that I usually prefer. Everything that happens in her home is her responsibility;
I am blessed that she is willing to share it all with me.

What a compliment that she believes that I am her equal,
Even though her life has been much more eventful.
Perhaps in the years between now and when I'm her age,
I'll enjoy as many relationships as those in which she's engaged.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Women of Wit and Wisdom

I'm basking in the wisdom of a woman we has adopted me;
She and I have always enjoyed each others company.
The knowledge she passes on, she learned at her mother's knee;
As she shares it all with me, she insists I remain debt free.

Her wisdom is much like that that I gleaned from my mothers,
But she is not embarrassed that I'm not like many others.
Perhaps it's that she isn't related to me by blood,
That she doesn't seem to find my ways rude or crude.

We laugh and cry together, as if we're both in our nineties;
This equal sharing seems to, both of us, equally please.
Today she called me her best friend; there is nothing more blessed
Than to find friendship with one who pretends to love me best.

I know that my time with her is, by nature, limited to a few years;
I want to soak up as much of her spirit as possible while she's here.
I hope this intensity of attention doesn't endanger her affection,
As I have already, through my intensity, created much rejection.

It is simply that I want to share all the wisdom and wit of women
That I have been so privileged to call my own good friends.
I want to sing the songs of women who think they're only average,
And pass their sacred stories of greatness on from age to age.

Sing the songs of loving mothers, nursemaids, singers, and cooks.
Sing the songs of teachers who explain what we can't learn from books.
Sing the songs of laundresses and of prophetic storytellers.
Sing the songs of our men who honor the home dwellers.

We must write new chapters of our own sacred scriptures,
The every day lessons we've learned without religious strictures.
We must tell our children and theirs our own experience in truth;
Only then will we be able to relax and have faith in our youth.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Listening and Learning

I can't think of anything more enjoyable than to bask in the success of those I love. Not only did I have the privilege of being at the event announcing my daughter's success as a teacher, on Sacred Sunday, I spent the day with my daughter. We had a leisurely brunch together, followed by something she hasn't allowed me to do with her for many years, help her choose clothing. It seems that she has decided to change her dress style now that she is being so prominently put on display. I used to really know how to dress for success; I'm always proud to share any knowledge I have on any subject with her, anytime she asks. This position in her fashion adviser line-up has opened because her older daughter is now busy with college.

Her younger daughter was busy all week-end preparing for her performance as a tenor saxophone player with the district honor band. I know it was Super Bowl Sunday, but watching my granddaughter share her success was my Super Sacred Sunday celebration. I was blessed with the opportunity, after the concert, to take mother and daughter stars to supper, just the three of us. What a delight it was to be able to converse with my almost fifteen-year-old grandchild in an arena where she felt free to share her life and information on various topics with me.

I'd much prefer to listen and learn from those who are successful than to spend my old age complaining about what a mess we've made of the world. And listening to the youth of our nation, I have great hope for what will come after I'm long gone.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Women of The Word

If we are known by the company we keep, I should have a halo by now;
My daughter is her school's teacher of the year; I was her mother, somehow.
My daughter-in-law also earned that award; my son is her husband/partner
They are both so very deserving of any accolades they garner.

What can be more sacred than teaching a child to apply information?
We need more teachers this dedicated in our hysterical nation.
Until we learn to think through consequences before we react,
We will make no progress in society, without then sliding back.

I love to surround myself with people of great competence
This began when I was a child, and I've practiced it ever since.
My daddy said that I was a sponge; my mother said I was arrogant
I had to learn in secret, or away to another's home, I was soon sent.

This served the purpose of exposing me to even more
Knowledge of the kind that my mother's people abhorred.
Women were to be seen and submissive, but never heard;
This was according to our religion's teaching of The Word.

Teaching is a subversive act; education can be dangerous;
The world is changed when ideas are respectfully discussed.
Rote memorization and vomiting back random facts
Is the old method of learning; sacred teachers won't go back.

I am so blessed by the aura of these two fine women;
One I call daughter, but they are both good friends.
If it hadn't been for gifted teachers, I don't know where I'd be;
My Sacred Spirit was kept alive by women such as these.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Church of Good Cheer

I left my lover yesterday for a three week trip alone;
I have always told him wherever he is, that's my home.
We had breakfast together, as lovers often do;
He said, "Stop at the gas pump; I'll pump your gas for you."

The drive is long without him, but I had much to think through;
Planning Mountain Mama's history project gave me much to do.
I was so looking forward to my first stop to see my daughter;
Every time I wanted to take a break, I pushed myself a bit farther.

My girlfriend's home awaited me, as it always does so well.
She had to work late at the mansion, so into my warm bed I fell.
I thinking of how many homes to which I have the keys;
I'm actually never far from a feeling of welcoming family.

The Sacred Spirit comes to me in so many faces and voices;
I have never been one to walk away from any of my choices.
Some insist that church is a building and a certain creed;
I say that my church is where we help fill each others' needs.