Friday, February 29, 2008

oh how young we are...

Last night I was in one of the many meetings I sit in with my job and the topics were heated...many people stood up to speak their piece and then sat down - this was interesting I thought but when one Elder woman - beautiful in her strength and wisdom stood to speak at the microphone I paused to listen intently... her words were spoken with intensity but not loudly, with authority but not with overbearing tones...her immense wisdom was worn like a beautifully embroidered shawl about her shoulders, a comfortable garment which she no longer paid attention to but which I saw sparkling with golden threads of experience woven through multi-colored memories. I scanned the room briefly and took note of the many years of wisdom this particular meeting encompassed as many of the grandmas had taken their time to come here to speak their minds or to listen to what the outcome would be. Suddenly I found myself feeling young and childish up at the front table...what am I doing here? I don't have anywhere near the experience they have or the wisdom they share or even the strength with which they carry themselves.

One of my favorite grandmas looked up at me and winked, she smiled big as if to say "listen and learn...you'll be here someday" and I saw it then...they had all been the younger ones at the front table...they had listened to THEIR grandmas with awe and respect...

Basically again was the moral of this story: LISTEN...

:-)

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Basketry

Before I knew about weaving and how intricately this art expresses each facet of our lives I wrote this poem for a dear friend of mine...it was brought to mind again today so although it's old, it's going here now. This friend is still my close friend and sister.


beautiful days of sunlit rides
up the mountains to the lake
smell of coffee wafting richly
through the morning before the break
laughter, prayers, talking for hours
about things close to the heart... and not
moments shared before the throne of the King
singing the Song, the melody's caught

these are the strands woven with love
and these are what make the form last
soaked in the Water they'll never break
kneaded with oil the form is cast
graceful and deep it will hold many treasures
to be poured out by the One
who with wisdom knew just the right time
to put the creation into the sun...