If Saving is Earning

If it's true
as I have learned
"a penny saved
is a penny earned"
then I guess
I earn a lot.
It's not what I do
but what I do not:
I do not buy
designer cribs,
Swarovski crystal-
covered bibs,
formula,
Coach diaper bags,
or designer
spit-up rags.
I do not go
to shopping malls
or salons
or fancy balls.
I don't pick up
those magazines
or watch the ads
on big flat screens.
I do not use
six different sprays
to make my hair
look good all day.
I do not fly
in private jets
or take vacations.
At least not yet.
I do not drive
a brand new car,
or a golf cart,
chasing par.
I do not drive
a monster truck.
I do not pay
for tummy tucks.
I do not keep
an equine stable.
I don't hang out
on operating tables.
I do not need
a phone that's smart
or million-dollar
works of art.
I do not need
a leather chair,
a business wardrobe,
or childcare.
Being thrifty's not
a prestigious career.
But if saving is earning,
there's potential here.

In One Month

Your first tooth broke through,
you crawled and stood up, too,
you climbed up on the shelf,
all by your very self.
You ate chunks of bananas,
you made some sounds like "da-duh,"
you had many happy meetings
and you learned to wave a greeting.
You displayed your headstrong will
and once or twice you sat quite still.
All this progress in one month!
And me, what have I done?

Earn Your Own Salvation

We're all born in chains of sin.
Yes, that's what we believe.
But the answer's easy:
Jesus died to set you free.
Besides, it's in our budget.
A sinner's prayer is cheap.
You can share our Jesus
and our building we can keep.
But all your earthly troubles?
They are your own creation.
So from your living hell
you must earn your own salvation.

Not There

My selfish soul says,
"God, what the hell are you doing?"

                             God says,

                             "Your selfish soul's and hell's undoing."

I ask,
"God, where the hell are we going?"

                            "Not there, thank Me!"

Thank God, not there.

Longing

Sometimes I long for I don't know.
My heart just longs. I don't know why.
I feel this feeling will not go
away until the day I die.

Morning Sigh

Morning comes around

like cursive

where it touches the line.

My feet touch the ground.

It's cold.

The sun will rise.

I go upstairs softly. 

My face still pink

as the morning sky.

My brain still in a haze

like letters poorly erased

by the gummy night.

I pour myself some coffee,

hot coffee that has cooled,
to sip and sigh. 

Coming Home

Today I woke in my own bed.
A to-do list formed in my head.
Check the chickens, check email,
Follow my own paper trail.
Go through notebooks stacked in piles.
Turn them into labeled files.
Wash the diapers. Wash the clothes.
And then I'll think of more, I know.
First: breakfast and then take a shower.
Write three little poems.
Coming back to a list like this
means I'm coming home.

My Own Harmony

We turned scraps of trash into
works of art.
We took turns singing
the second part.

That sister way our voices blend–
you're my best friend, and that won't end.
But now that you are far from me,
I must sing my own harmony.

My voice is too loud
for this house,
whether I sing or
whether I shout.

Friends is something I should
get around to,
knowing that no one
will be like you.

     Come for a visit.
     Sing and I'll sing with it.

That sister way our voices blend–
you're my best friend, and that won't end.
But now that you are far from me,
I must sing my own harmony.

First Thanksgiving

You didn't want to sleep.
There was too much going on.
All these people to hold you.
You smiled at our laughter.
You waved to say hello.
You let us get to know you.
You ate some sweet potatoes.
You reached for all the sweets.
Your stopped to have some milk.
You crawled across the floor.
You pulled yourself to standing.
I'm so thankful for your health.

Before Thanksgiving

There is so much to do before Thanksgiving:
laundry and cleaning and dishes to bake,
papers to scan and meals to eat,
items for discussion and plans to make.
There is so much to do before Thanksgiving–
so much action among the ranks.
So much to do, but I refuse
to do it before giving thanks.

In the Family Room

My daughter is sitting

on my grandpa's lap

in the recliner

where he usually take's a nap.

My sister is finding 

a little snack to eat

on the counter where Grandma 

lays out the treats. 

My grandma's relaxing

and chatting a while.

I sit on the hearth and 

I watch and I smile.

To Write Yesterday's Poem

It's hard to look back into time,
search out the reason and the rhyme,
and all the sense that we can make.
We want to do another take.
And even now with all we know,
it's hard to write yesterday's poem.

All Good Things

You have everything you need today.
I want to give you so much more.
I want to give you all good things,
the ones not in the store.
Someone to look up to.
A shed of scrap materials.
Apologies sometimes.
To know all of life is the "real world."
A country road to walk on
beneath the glowing moon.
A spark of delight when you hear
that daddy will be home soon.
The confidence to stand at the front.
The courage to disagree.
Enough grace for others and yourself.
A little grace for me.
An understanding of how to gain knowledge.
The patience to practice your art.
A hideaway to fill with dreams.
Hope anchored in your heart.

Morning

You could use a bit more sleep.
I could use a bit more you.
If I leave you alone to sleep real deep,
will you wake up in a minute or two?
I'm pouring coffee, frying eggs,
I'm making up some toast
for breakfast with my sleepyhead,
the one I love the most.

But Me, I Don't Mind Change

But me, I don't mind change.
Let's get on with it.
Let's do something different.
I wouldn't mind a bit.
If staying here is normal,
let's do something strange.
To some that may be scary,
but me, I don't mind change.

Taste for Books

If you can read it, she will eat it.
She has a taste for books
and envelopes and papers.
They're everywhere she looks!
They motivate her crawling.
They spur her to great heights.
(She also has an interest
in her mom's reading light.)
She probably wonders why
we seem to really care
about those little markings
at which we often stare.
One day she'll understand
why we do what we do.
It's really quite simple:
we have a taste for books, too!

I Won't Write a Poem Today

I won't write a poem today.

I don't care what you may say.

You may beg, but there's no way–

I just don't have time.

I have other things to do.

I'd rather clean out chicken poo.

All these things I say are true–

unless, of course, they rhyme.

This Could Be a Song

It's been one of those days.
It's been one of those weeks
when getting pushed down
has reached a peak.
We keep walking, talking
about where we ought to be
so that we keep moving, doing
what it takes to be free.

This could be a song.
Just put the words with notes.
Sing it to your children;
tell them this is how life goes.
Life sure takes it out of you
until something's got to give.
Sing high, sing low, sing "We don't know!
Lord, teach us how to live."

Things fall apart.
They call it "entropy."
Which is why we're always running
out of energy.
And our lists get longer
as our patience runs thin.
It gets out of control, and all we know
is it'll happen again.

This could be a song.
Just put the words with notes.
Sing it to your children;
tell them this is how life goes.
Life sure takes it out of you
until something's got to give.
Sing high, sing low, sing "We don't know!
Lord, teach us how to live."

If we think it will be easy,
we won't see this through.
We'll be blind to what it takes
and what others have to do.
We might put off our serving
until our own needs are met,
Soon we'd be dying, finding
we've not been satisfied yet.

This could be a song.
Just put the words with notes.
Sing it to your children;
tell them this is how life goes.
Life sure takes it out of you
until something's got to give.
Sing high, sing low, sing "We don't know!
Lord, teach us how to live."

Country Block

There is a country block
with a city on one corner
and my friends live on one mile
and my family on another.
Each day we do our best work,
working side by side.
We have each other over
for a meal most every night.
And on weekends we go swimming
in the ocean 'cross the road
or go hiking on the mountain
on this country block I know.

Sunshine On a Cold Day

Sunshine on a cold day
can't take all the cold away.
Socks are warm when freshly dried.
I pull them on and look outside.
Crystals swirl like dryer lint
and the sunshine makes them glint.

Eggs

Maybe they think it's time for us to go.
Maybe they want to see us move far, far
away. Maybe they know.
Time to go wash the eggs off the car.

Maybe they think that all we have is trash.
Maybe they think that that is who we are.
Someday (maybe) they'll know.
Time to go wash the eggs off the car.

Poems for Sale

Poems for sale!
Fresh poems for sale!
Order them
by pigeon mail.
I'll tie them to
your pigeon's tail,
and send him back
on the next light gale
so they'll come fresh–
not one bit stale.
Yes, that is how
I'd pay my bail
if I were in
the county jail.
Poems for sale!
Yes, poems for sale!

Not a Given

The love of a family
is not a given
and a big extended family
is not a given
and a circle of friends
is not a given.

Acceptance and understanding
from those who talk and listen–
I listen to others and notice,
these things are not a given.

And now I have a debt, a bank
of thanks not given.
Stacks of notes of thanks to send,
for tomorrow's not a given.

Let Me Think

Let me think.
Let me know what you think.
Let me know, let me think that I know
how to go about this.
Then show me how to let go.

Let me see.
Let me wonder again.
Let me try this one more time and then
I'll be done on my own.
Then show me everything you know.

When We Vote

When we vote, we're one but two,
because I'll vote the same as you.
We choose our choice,
compound our voice,
and hope that what they've said is true.

So here's this running list of names
who give each other all the blame.
But I know you
and you've been true,
so let us think and vote the same.

Mad Scientist

If you've got a great idea, but no time left in the day,
and you wonder what the world would think or what your friends would say,
and your seven other projects are getting in the way,
and you're not sure that it will work (but think that it just may)
just pretend you're a mad scientist, and do it anyway.

Realistic Reality

If by "let's be realistic"
you mean "let's make that a reality,"
let's go!
And along the way,
please don't say
"I told you so."
Because when it is reality,
you'll find it quite realistic.
But if you stop right here
you'll already have missed it.

Get Well Soon

Get well soon.
We'll go outside.
We'll run around the yard and
rake up all
the leaves and move
them all into the garden.
Get well soon.
We'll go somewhere,
drive off without a care and
stop at stores
and buy some stuff
and generally run errands.
Get well soon.
We'll have some fun.
By "fun" I of course mean work.
Get well soon.
Unless you want
to stay and rock and nurse.

I Feed

I feed
the baby, then I feel
a hungry need
for food; I feed
myself, then I feed
the baby, then I feed
the sourdough starter, then I feed
the baby, then I feed
the chickens, then I feed
the baby, then I feel
a hungry need
for food; I feed
myself, then I feed
the baby, then I feed
the kefir grain, then I feed
the baby, then I feel
a hungry need
for food; I feed
myself, then I feed
the baby, and then I feed
the baby (again) and then I feel
a hungry need
for food; I feed
the household, then I feed
the sourdough starter, then I feed
the baby, then I feed
the chickens, then I feed
the baby, then I feel
a hungry need
for food; I feed
myself, then I feed
the baby, and then I sleep.
And then (again)…

Underneath

Underneath pink gums so tight
lies a row of pearly whites
that won't get through without a fight.
Makes me wonder what else is hiding inside.