cronechronicler

Exploring the poetry of everyday life

Post Graduate Learning

Formerly I learned a lot
Traveling my wisest teacher
Newer lessons bid me stay
Listen to my changing body
Adventure seemed activity
Ready for the rubbish pile
Until on stage appeared two grandsons

Brothers with licenses to drive
Full of who they plan to be
What journeys focused in their sights
Which college lessons are required
Still loving Grandma Ina
Last week extended invitations
Offered me new inspiration

First the eldest set a date
Asked my advice where we should lunch
Entered address in GPA and off we went
But not by any route I knew
Arrived at restaurant in same chain
(I didn’t know there was a chain)
My grandson turned my old to new

His brother next made plans with me
Knocked on door at time we set
Walked right in with plastic bag
Filled with ingredients to cook
Eggs Benedict tradition shared
Between us two before
He even washed the dishes

Reminded me of new and old
Ever present combination
Creating new originals
Gumbo promise for future-time
Seasoned with love and memory
Dreams and hope for generations
And altogether possible

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Haiku: Spring Hope

Bright moon shone last night
Peeled tangerine for breakfast
New oak leaves flutter

Two visiting geese
Reappear out of season
Honking early morn

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Haiku: Fickle Spring

After Sunday’s snow
Morning sets fluffy white clouds
Afloat in blue sky

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Brand New Day: Untested Waters

My current Brand New Day dawned with the Recession of 2008. Within a matter of months  my oldest son’s  job was eliminated. He battled the turbulent tides of semi- or un-employment for almost ten years. He was managing to stay afloat financially with consulting jobs related to his expertise in his former occupation. After I moved to Cleveland six years ago he often dropped by to visit. The many conversations we shared brought new depths to us as mother and son. We developed a routine like a rudimentary Japanese Tea Ceremony.

My son called to see if it was a good time to visit. If I was home it always was. My son drinks iced tea and I prefer coffee so we settled on water. I kept bottled water in the refrigerator for him. When I knew he was on the way I got out a bottle of water and put it on the glass-top coffee table that was my grandmother’s. I set it on a glass coaster, one of a large set we used for water and iced tea when I visited her in the summer as a little girl. After a while we decided that water in a plastic bottle was not good for the environment so I offered him a glass of tap water. Before he left he always took his empty glass to the kitchen.

In the presence of my grandmother’s coffee table and a glass of water set on her coaster we have become friends – two adults talking about his problems and then ranging to past history between us and within our family. He feels safe telling me about his disappointments and serious financial problems which naturally make his wife anxious. I am there to listen and give support. Finally after a seemingly unending two-week-long interview process he was offered the job of his dreams last week. What they want is exactly the skills he possesses. After his first day of work he told me it was the fourth happiest day of his life, after his wedding and the birth of his two sons. He told me he would not be able to visit me as often. I knew that. I was so proud and happy to hear the joy in his voice that I couldn’t ask for anything more. This was the beginning of a Brand New Day.

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Haiku: Rosy Hope

Six-thirty A.M.
Daylight savings time wonder
Pink clouds cover sky

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Dancing Lessons

Many days I feel there is no poetry in the world to explore. The pink stripes in the sky will reappear with Winter. What will they say to me? The patio has gone through its Autumn transformation. The iron furniture has been stored and the pool is empty. Summer was not the same with endless days when the thermometer hit 90. I don’t mind that it is over. Spring is a distant memory.

Four years ago I wrote of my magical experience watching acres of tulip bulbs being plowed under after they bloomed in the Spring. The soft brown fallow fields shared with me their wisdom. Though the fields were bare they were rich with everything necessary to nurture tulips next season. I felt the pull of being fallow. I wanted to empty my life of all that had busied it and let what was already within me bear fruit. I found freedom and an unexpected gift. I could write poetry.

After moving to be near my family, the new roots I put down have taken firm hold. Life at the Greenbriar is good. I believed I was settled-in once and for all. Now the world has changed in ways I have no words to describe. I’ve stepped back to take a longer view. My mind is awakening to old histories and possibilities of new hope for our future. Once more being fallow will allow me room to grow.

A small miracle happened Sunday while we celebrated World Wide Communion at church. The last hymn of the service was “We Are Walking in the Light of God”, an African Freedom Song. The last verse of the hymn reads “We are dancing in the light of God”. As we sang people began to move about. A friend pulled me from my pew. She and I began to dance in the aisle, making it up as we went along. Other people gave us space. I think they were amazed that two seasoned women were so uninhibited. When the music stopped she and I couldn’t stop laughing. I still feel the glow. The world has surprises I never imagined happening when I am alive to the moment. My new way of being fallow dances to a different beat.

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Uncertain Poetry

Sometimes poetry seems to defy
Difficult moments of everyday life
Times can be raw and hard to express
Days I keep things close to my chest

Daughter-in-law tomorrow set to begin
Long months of chemo to battle breast cancer
Son and grandchildren holding up well
Support from neighbors a loving bulwark

Family draws close at tenuous time
Grateful for many who help share the load
Love, prayer and food provide nourishment
Hope for the future sustains us all

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Requiem

Exploring the poetry of everyday life
More easily said than done these days
Time to reset and center myself
Face facts that changes warping the world
Seem to be settling in for a long haul

Poetry is not dead Heaven forbid
This lifeblood of humans flows deep in our veins
Hidden beneath horrors spewed out in the news
Goodness and glory in shapes still unseen
Kindness and God’s grace yet will prevail

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Haiku: Grace Note

A shocking pink sky
Glories Thanksgiving morning
May God grant us peace

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Haiku: Never Under Estimate

Small tender brown roots
Branching underground downward
Crumble foundations

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