When We Had First Begun

I wondered if I’d pass this way again.
Stained glass shimmers in the morning sun;
Worship service ends at half past ten.

“I miss them,” was my thinking now and then;
My soul’s rest in God had just begun.
I wondered if I’d pass this way again.

Bible studies met an idle pen
And contemplation formed a church of one.
Worship service ends at half past ten.

This morning, though, I remembered when
They welcomed me in late October’s sun.
I wondered if I’d pass this way again.

Emerging from the womb of my den,
I join old friends to praise the risen Son.
Worship service ends at half past ten.

Voices soar in praise and sweetly blend,
Recalling days “when we had first begun.”
Grateful that I’ve passed this way again;
Worship need not end at half past ten.

How Quickly Time Flies

Speaking volumes only with her eyes
The patient says along with dozens more,
“Please don’t say how quickly time flies.”

She’d rather lie beneath the clear blue skies,
But learns to live with smells she could abhor,
Speaking volumes only with her eyes.

Twisted fingers merely a disguise,
Her hands once steered a kayak back to shore.
Please don’t say how quickly time flies.

This one-time river runner waits and sighs.
She sees her breakfast tray come through the door
And speaks volumes only with her eyes.

CNAs and RNs could be spies.
They’re seen, you know, on every single floor.
Please don’t say how quickly time flies.

This morning passed more quickly than before.
She could not know she’d breathe her last by four.
Still speaking volumes only with her eyes.
Please don’t say how quickly time flies.

Bud Break

Bud break raises hope amid the freeze,
But early spring betrays the tender shoot
As March winds carry dry leaves where they please.

Sailing home from winter’s distant seas,
Dandelions rise from robust roots.
Bud break raises hope amid the freeze.

We fold our arms in much-too-short sleeves
And scour branches for their springtime loot,
As March winds carry dry leaves where they please.

Daylight hours cure our dark disease.
April beckons with her far-off flute,
And bud break raises hope amid the freeze.

Braver still, the sunlight begs to please
As dust collects on long forgotten boots
And March winds carry dry leaves where they please.

Too late! Not now! We sigh as flurries fly.
So sure we were that spring was drawing nigh!
Bud break raises hope amid the freeze,
But March winds carry dry leaves where they please.