Raindrops At My Window

Raindrops At My Window

Raindrops are falling at my window,
this early morn in November.
I hear the rythm of its sound,
and my mind escapes the world around.
Yet I'm reminded winter harks and I must prepare,
for the rain turns to snow I'm aware.
The leaves are falling silently and life dies down,
returning to the earth and giving to the ground.
And in this stillness I do hear,
the pitter-patter of life so near.
Raindrops at my window,
a sweetness always to remember,
this early morn in November.

Sisters

Three Sisters Be

All along we all knew this time would not be for long,

but just a while to come together even for a day or two,

and we proved once again we were strong.

For once again to feel the love we've shared for so long,

to tap into that source of strength no others can see,

the awesomeness of 

 Three Sisters Be.

Our fellows at each our side they came too,

because they know a sister's love,

is a bond that cannot be broken in two.

To feel this love is somewhere to belong.

It's all a part of a long life shared, a dance, and a song,

it's heard throughout the land, the miles apart we live,

even sweeter than the taste of honey

and more than words can ever be spoken.

To be a part of 

Three Sisters Be

Is truly a gift indeed!

Waiting

Waiting for snowfall...

Waiting for light...

Waiting for spring....

all through the night.

Waiting for good news....

Waiting for sight...

Waiting for miracles...

something more bright.

Waiting for the darkness to fade away...

Waiting for the dawn of a new day...

I've been waiting and waiting...

for you Lord to show me the way.

Late Nights, Early Days

If there would be one question left for me at the end of my time it would be, why are my nights so late when the daylight begins so early?
You see it began long ago....likely in the womb of my mother.  I imagine she too had been daunted with the gift(?), or curse(?) of being a night owl.  I remember well as a little girl many times it seemed like magic that my mother would produce such incredible feats, such as making dresses for all us five girls, or getting all our clothes washed, and then to top it off she would have breakfast out just in time for school(not really on time but what the heck it sufficed to get us fed and on our way).  I just knew she  had elves stashed away somewhere and would sneak them out after our heads hit the sack.  Of course, that's why she always wanted us to go to bed so early!
Whether a curse or gift I suppose it is relative to our position in life.  I find often that it seems a curse in that I pay dearly in the cost of my health, not to mention my inability to function during the day at my best.
I used to believe that one of the reasons for wanting to stay up so late was sheer rebellion(from all those times I was made to go to bed at night).  Also I see it as time to myself!  I used to ask why then couldn't I go to bed early and get up early, well, you see my husband is an early riser and when I get up with him he likes to talk a lot.  I am not a talker in the mornings!  Pleeze!  Give me time to roll over and get some coffee!
So, why is it that I struggle to go to sleep at night earlier and rise with a fresh being?  No, it's not the end of my time but I still would like to know! Good night!

A poem for my dearest Chad's daughter and son.

MoonCycles

Time can be measured

with each heartbeat we hear,

Rhythmically-second by second, minute by minute,

hour by hour, and day by day.

And as days become months,

which are measured by the moon,

her pattern repeats itself

to the sound of our tune.

Each one anew, waxing into fullness,

waning to the next, then unseen,

unheard, a phase lasting half a breath,

cycling through, another heart beat,

another moon,

 and time escapes us all too soon.

And as the moon cycles through each life and breath does too,

passing over with a heartbeat

to begin anew.

by Janey Wood Kelly

Frozen Memories

Unbelievably cold this January day and two days ago even colder at 1 degrees F.  It is interesting to note how much the frozen landscape reflects our memories in time.  The running water in the creek has layers of ice capturing the water in time, frozen, standing still, yet all the while the underlying water continues to flow like that of our  mind and its memories but still connecting us to the here and now.  If only for a moment, stand still frozen in time.  Feel the breath as it moves in and out of your lungs, its coolness, and for a real treat stand outside and watch your breath, ahhh!  Winter, thank you for memories!

Ode To My Brother

          

 As with the river life continues far beyond what we can see;

And as the seasons change, so do we on our journey here.

The snow falls silently leaving a blanket that the sun warms

for the earths chance to reabsorb and carry back 

to the rivers from which it came.

And as we too spring forth with life, 

we carry with us the force of nature;

And so it is we too return to the river

to be carried on to the beyond of which we cannot see.

And it is there too where our life begins anew,

another season waiting its turn. 

                                                                           Love you Bro
                                                                                  RIP