This poem was written on September 11, 2001 as I watched the news reports from work. I was shocked, alarmed, saddened, yet I had a new hope in a God who could save and comfort all.
We all have rough days. You know, those days you wish you could push away and leave behind. As I parent my kids, and especially as I walk through adolescence with my seventh-grade daughter, I’m frequently reminded of the heartache, the unkind friends, and those disappointing moments you wish you could change but can’t.
The past may hold us, the future may change us, yet something binds, it holds and secures— Memories, old and new, combine to seal and hold tight the grip— the…
I wrote this poem, Christmas Claustrophobia, while raising three small children in a small 1100 square foot house. Each Christmas I would dread all the “stuff” from the decorations to the gifts because I enjoy a clutter-free home . . . which is somewhat of a distant memory.
There are no minutes
There are no days
Time etches on
Can’t get it back
No clutch and release
Hold tight, run through
Sandy grains, indeed.