dinner party in the winter on the snowy streets
of a neighborhood with houses twice the size
of middle class serves stories with friends who come
together for this night in celebration of work done
well by hands that touch and heal the sick, the chi movers
who trust enough to work with angels, chi movers
who fight battles in court rooms for children's voices,
chi movers who braid sound and noise on paper with
scribbles that turn into symphonies for sold out theaters.
dinner party in winter with plates full and plenty
for grandmas, truckers, colored pencil picture makers,
you shine like Christmas lights and sparkly ornaments
that are different from each other but perfect as a whole.
dinner party in winter the wind is blowing snow
on guests who stayed much too long, they run,
the chi movers inside cold cars and the wind
blows again as if to say good night.
Friday, December 14, 2012
My house is silent with a Christmas tree so beautifully illuminated with lights that shine in perfect unison to outdoor sounds of a much needed gentle December rain. A handmade paper star from yesterday with grand kids rests on my lap. The stillness brings a peace to this senseless and tragic day that has no answer to words that ask questions of why. Tonight I am a child who makes a wish on paper stars, asking what if? What if everything in the world was for a reason? What if there is a greater plan and lost souls who died had made a previous agreement to help us open our hearts because I saw much of that being done today. What if we spoke gentler to our children tomorrow, to each other and to the ones who cause pain? And what if we stopped long enough in our over rushed lives of getting to somewhere and thanked the divine Source of all for this day? No, there are no words tonight except a knowing that today is all we're truly gifted.