While it lasts

The falling leaves drift by the window,
the autumn leaves of red and gold

the days grow long and soon I'll hear
Old winter's song

Johnny Mercer

E.P. - 19 yrs old - '06

I would gift wrap all the presents
friendly things the world it has
if I could.

Even to send a folded thought
an envelope that holds
a wish for you

is what I wish.

Where could I send it?

But perhaps I can smile a smile
and hug a hug.
I'll send them off,
and they will know exactly where to go
to find you and tell you
my wish:

That you always see light
and are loved as you love.
And never looking back,
never forget.

Hold onto His hand
and hold onto his.
And in case you ever need it
mine's always here too.

-

Happy birthday, L
Times find me wishing I was there or you were here,
Love always,
Christina

leaf angels

We made leaf angels first but the wind erased them.
So we gathered all the leaves and jumped in them and grinned and then to leave them as we found them
picked them up and
1
2
3
TOSS UP!!

Birthday

A rain had fallen from some warmer region in the skies when the cold here below was intense to and extreme. Every drop was frozen wherever it fell in the trees, and clung to the limbs and sprigs as it it had been fastened by hooks of steel. The earth was never more universally covered with snow, and the rain had frozen upon a crust on the surface which shone with the brightness of burnished silver. The icicles on every sprig glowed in all the luster of diamonds. Every tree was a chandelier of cut glass. I have seen a queen of France with 18 millions of livres of diamonds upon her person and I declare that all the charms of her face and figure added to all the glitter of her jewels did not make an impression on me equal to that presented by every shrub. The whole world was glittering with precious stones.
- on an ice storm that resulted in the loss of his prized fruit trees,
John Adams
born October 30, 1735

where are my coloring books?

Perhaps they had gotten left in the third grade, so I drew
in the margins and behind the bars
of this notebook.

skies of clouds and the blue between
Old man river in autumn
raining leaves
five flowers catching snowflakes, holding hands.

K's drawing me a proper coloring book. I must've looked mournful enough, or else she's simply
sweetish!

F's cotton head on my knee
gave him paper and a Crayon
check his progress -- laugh-- he beams at me
swallowing the last
green
bits

Held

Yesterday was cold. Cold and rainy. We were going to go to the Wednesday meeting at church for once. I didn't want to go. NLCS Game 1. You know me. But I needed to go, so I did. We started out and 10 minutes down the road came to the intersection there, and there were about 6 or 7 cars parked, on the side of the road and in the grass. Slowing down, we saw the underneath of a mini van down in the ravine where it had toppled and was now lying, halfway on its side and halfway on its top. There were no police cars or ambulances or anything there yet. So we stopped. We had to. How can you pass by? My mum got out, and hurried over to find out what was going on. She came back a few minutes later, took the blankets that were in the car and told everyone else to stay in. So we could only watch until the authorities finally came and they started getting the passengers out and away. They were only children. I could see one little boy, the first one they pulled out, carried to the ambulance on a stretcher. I couldn't hear him. I couldn't do anything but sit there getting wet from the rain coming through my open window. I would only have been in the way. But there is something in you that wants to do something, to do good and help. And something else that wants to stay where you are safe, where you don't have to see.

She told me later the driver of the van was a 16 year old girl, permit driver probably. Didn't stop at the stop sign for some reason and a passing truck slammed into them, spinning around and sending them down the ditch. 7 people in the van, the two parents, I think, and the rest children. The mom was in shock and only said Was I driving, was I driving... oh god, I've killed my children. There was blood all over in the van, Mum said. Parents were both in shock, some of the children had head damage and were unconscious, the driver included, and the other children all had broken legs and arms. Little arms and legs. I didn't want to ask God why. I only thanked Him. For no one was killed.

They were landing the helicopters to take them away when we left. It was too late to go to church then, so we turned around and went home. The game was cancelled due to rain in New York. No one here felt much like cheering anyway. It was freezing in the house all night, or at least it seemed that way to me. Shivering all night, and I didn't even have my window open for once. I couldn't fall asleep for thinking again, so I prayed once more for them all. I'm still praying today. I don't know any of those people, not even their names, but I trust it to God that they will be all right. How fragile we are. There's this big world and there's us, little people. So small. There are those who simply don't see that and some of their problems will seem insurmountable to them, because to those people there is nothing higher, nothing more important than their lives. And there are those who do sense it, and it will fill them with fear; fear of what can and might happen. And then there are those who truly see one thing. That yes, we are small. Yes, this world is big. But there is something sure and it is that God is big too. Bigger. Grander. More. You know the hymn "Blessed Assurance, Jesus is Mine"? I am blessed and assured. For He is mine, but more importantly, that I am His. There is the rock that is higher than I. In that place, there is no fear.

I am His. I am held.

Back

I don't really know how to feel. I'm not so pretty sometimes. I have lost sight in this past week. But brought back now to realize that when I lose sight, that's when I lose joy. And I don't ever want to lose my joy, and have a day when I can't smile and I couldn't sing.

After I wrote the last entry, I was wandering through one of my notebooks and found a folded up piece of paper in between the pages. I can't write out here what was on it, but it stopped me dead in my pitying myself. It was something I wrote. I don't remember when and I don't remember why. I guess you could call it a confession. A confession of submission... letting go. A willingness to give up trying to know why, and trying to carry a load I wasn't meant to. To just be held. And to simply, simply trust. There couldn't be any more than that peace when I am in that place, that blessed, blessed peace.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled
as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.

St Frances of Assisi

September evening

I hardly know what to say, being so overwhelmed with the angels that I call my friends. Every prayer, word, and thought about my family is appreciated more than you can know. I am blessed beyond belief. We're going to be alright.

Going to class in about an hour, but right now looking out the windows at Missouri September. I hope it gets cold again soon, so all the trees start changing. A few have. One of the silver maples on the drive, the one that's still a baby is all dressed up fiery red. The one across from it was planted at the same time and grew faster and bigger, but it's still green and doesn't hold a candle to that red. Then there's a tree pretty near the house that I think may be an ash, but don't know enough about trees to be sure. But I know it's turned the most brilliant yellow, the only other tree to change that much yet around here. I climbed it today for no reason at all (barefootin'!) and it was the cheeriest place in the world then, sun on golden leaves. Flash thought I was very odd, smiling down at him from up there, and dropping leaves on him, one by one. Not everybody understands everything, you know.

George Gershwin's birthday today. The words to the last song he ever wrote have been going through my mind all day.

It's very clear

Our love is here to stay

Not for a year

But ever and a day

Da

How is it? asked him. Not good, he says. He's always tired now and sometimes his breathing comes hard, with so much coughing...
with every one my heart aches a bit and asks why him? I would carry it for him and whatever else it is too... that he would breathe great big breaths of wonderful air, and smile a lot, and that he would be close. You have to teach me still -- teach me to hit the other way, teach me to be strong like you but not afraid to cry, teach me the simple answer to my thousand questions, and how it's not doing things that's important but most of all believing things.

We all have to hold on to believing things.

oh hold on.

Kayla came on a walk down the road with me a few days ago, and we talked about the most lovely things that we want. How she thought it would be so neat to have a grove of little trees, "like that one" there, and a little house in the middle for some exotic animals to live in and around and we'd let the tigers out sometimes but make sure they don't eat the nearby cows. (I don't know where she gets this stuff but I wouldn't trade listening to it for all the kingdoms in the world.) And how she wanted to fly in an airplane some time above the clouds to see what it's like and I said I'd love that too, but mentally thought who needs a plane? And how when it's winter and snowed we're going to explore everywhere around here that we haven't been. Especially those woods over here and that little broken down shack over there. Why when it's winter, you ask? Because there's no bugs, snakes, or poison ivy to hinder and exploring is best when wearing hats and scarves or don't you know anything. I can't remember ever looking forward to winter as I do now. Thanks to some inspiration from friends and the company of a little girl.

Happy autumn.