Giving thanks for flowering trees this spring in Minnesota, and for one in particular I planted In loving memory just before I moved to the Pacific Northwest, fourteen years ago.
There she stood as I walked through the old neighborhood, bright and beautiful in the morning sun, bringing to mind a wisdom Psalm and the blessed life it promises then, now, and forever.
“They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper.” Psalm 1:1-3
Tears have been shed recently at the death of loved ones I’ve been privileged to shepherd at Pioneer Presbyterian Church.
Yesterday teardrops flowed at news of a dear friend, two years younger, whose body gave way to cancer.
While often called upon to speak of hope found in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, words can’t express all I feel when I pause for a moment to embrace death as part of the larger experience of life.
So as this National Poetry Month comes to an end perhaps this little haiku from Called to be Alive! will simply have to do:
Raindrops on window Dead in Mighty River Heading for the sea
Today on the shore of the Columbia River I am pondering the “what is” in my later life and what is enough
Meditating on this little poem by Wendell Berry In The Peace of Wild Things:
The Arrival
Like a tide it comes in, wave after wave of foliage and fruit, the nurtured and the wild, out of the light to this shore in its extravagance we shape the strenuous outline of enough
Mindful of our call to care for one another and for each of us to do our part as good stewards for the sake of Mother Earth, what steps will I take this year for the health of our planet now and for generations to come?
A poem from Called to be Alive!:
Earth Day
Earth and humanity appear sometimes Like two ships passing in the dark, Both destined for extinction.
Be it an impending shipwreck on an island of plastic Or countless hearts crushed by relentless carbon heal stomps, Most continue to mindlessly sail on suffering waters, Killing fields, swamps, and rain forests, While mountains of earth’s ice melt faster than The ever-expanding sea of cold human hearts.
So, imagine my surprise that night At the Liberty Theatre in downtown Astoria when, By a call to life in honor of Earth Day, Truth and imagination set to music Spirited me beyond visions of loss and destruction To imagine what I can do To stop the death and dying.
If it’s true what I’ve been told about faith— That it’s not first of all for escaping obstacles But for experiencing them all the way through— Then an earnest observance of Earth Day will Set the sail for a new faith journey,
Not for quick fixes but for these lingering, heartfelt questions: What can I do to stop the killing, protect what’s left, and Imagine new ways to live in harmony with Mother Earth?
Questions can serve as answers for the long run On Earth Day and throughout the year. There are things I can do now— Pick up litter in the neighborhood and Bits of debris on the beaches, Buy more local, naturally grown produce, Amp up efforts to use less plastic, Use my voice to vote eco-friendly, Challenge myself and others to love the earth as we are to Love each other, not in words and speech but In truth and action.
Let your Earth Day observance reveal to you this inescapable mutuality: Injustice for Mother Earth means injustice for us all and From the life of Mother Earth comes life for us all.
My intention: I will hear Earth Day’s mandate: “Love Mother Earth as she has loved you,” and I will enter the crisis of climate change and plastic pollution beginning with the simple act of marking the Earth Day on my calendar [April 22]. Then I will jot down the names of one or more people whom I will ask to come forth and join me in a care-for-the-earth service project.
Wednesday is often practice day for our group Strong in Song. Together we rejoice in the marvelous way music unites our one small voice with others in God’s larger song of life. Members from left to right: Gary Streeter, Kelly Stiles, Ron Buss, Jerry O’Neill, and Dena McNeel
In honor of National Poetry Month and the poem from which our group drew its name:
My One Small Voice
Mine is one small voice Strong in Song that stirs the world to dancing
Whether a place of solitude and beauty, isolation, or despair,
Mine is one small voice Strong in the song always there young, old, and ageless
Sounding like a song, reading like the ancient story This, my one small voice
Harmonizing with the source of life, dancing in the oldest form This, my oneness with God
On this day in 1862, President Lincoln signed an act abolishing slavery in the District of Columbia, an important step in the long road toward full emancipation and enfranchisement for African Americans.
This huiku, describing a spectacle out my window that occurred about the same time George Floyd was nabbed and killed on a busy street in Minneapolis, speaks to our nation’s continued struggle with systemic racism as the whole world cries out, “Black Lives Matter!”
Spectacle
Fish out of water In talons of an eagle Protesters cry on
From Called to be Alive! In observance of National Poetry Month
On this Tax Day, as I imagine myself contributing to the health and wellness of my county, the global community, and Mother Earth, I long for elected leaders who will use my tax dollars wisely to that end.
A poem from Called to be Alive!:
Longing
A flock of brown pelicans flew gracefully by my window last night, their gregarious and cooperative ways aglow in the evening sun.
And the sight of the lead bird guiding them all in a peaceful flight over choppy waters left me longing.
Longing for a leader in these troubling times, One who guides with grace and peace, enlisting all in a spirit of wise and loving oneness. Longing for all creation to be a aglow in pursuit of the common good.