BEGINNINGS
How mystery-simple
to produce
(if not to tend)
a Man. Then
One moment
for variegated dreams
to start what they
began:
That moment
not first breath or cry
but touch (or lack)
of love-warm vision
to beginning span.
THE BUTTERFLY
As you turned
From the place of blessing
You were as a chrysalis
Unwrapped;
Momentarily static
But radiantly new:
Your wings still folded,
Colors yet to be revealed -
Poised
Toward
Coming momentum
But stunned
By freshness of view.
I grew up in the middle of New York, NY beginning at the very end of World War II: an artificial city life sprinkled with summers elsewhere. I met Jim Morrisson (my husband of 63 years) when he was a law student and we sang in the same choir. (Back then, we loved the music but we didn't know God yet.)
We venture forth every day into the hours that are given, to taste the Life all around us and see God's Fingerprints everywhere. Such is the basis of this poetry that we share here. Hope is a blessing available to all of us on this side of the sod. May some of these poems bless you too.