Thursday, April 09, 2015

My Beautiful Mother

He called her first, she, who is no longer his.  He has many who do belong to him and he didn't call them, he called her.  She picked up the phone and listened as he told her his fears.  She hung up, got her sweater and rushed off to the hospital to make sure that he was looked after.  Their past is icky and plagued with betrayal and disrespect, but still she went without comment.  She is beautifully human in a world that is less so each and every day.  God, how I love my mother!

Sunday, February 08, 2015

February Rain

April rain came down in February.  That soft southern California mist that lightly softens the soil for spring planting.  It's the kind that you can sit out in.  It doesn't do more than dampen your clothes, and you feel better, more alive, like the wetness is getting you ready for the season of heat.
The dry months are in front of you, but you can imagine, you pray, you hope that there is enough time for your roots to grow deep, deep down into the newly softened earth and grab hold of something that will keep you from withering under the scorching sun.