Wednesday, September 30, 2009

unseen work

“Earth's crammed with heaven, 

And every common bush afire with God; 

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes - 

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.”  

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

sudsy water warm cleansing
my legs are full
i look out over the kitchen sink
dark world, drippy with rain

the house sleeps on
kitty waits
it won't be too long
the sleeping house will wake

for now i wash and wipe
alone, quiet, cleansing
knowing all the while
i walk on holy ground

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

joy ride gone awry

oh man am i sick :(
belching miserable.
in the midst of temple granite,
blooming sage of gold,
a swift MINI ride,
and Tanners Flat
the urge to be home has taken over
at White Pines Trail Head i pull over
listen to grasshoppers click
and perspire

the goal--to view autumn in all it's splendor
the reality--i want to puke

oh to be Dorothy and click one's heels three times--

tomorrow may be wet and cold
today is green around the gills
poor dear mother
how did our people ever survive the voyage?
it's a mystery


Saturday, September 26, 2009


you ditched us
boy with bright smile
one minute  here
now -- loss

you bailed on us
we weren't through
that smile...

you bowed out
before the curtain call
we wanted more
no one can be you

you forgot
how much you are loved
now only longing
for that sunny smile

Mosiah 8:21

Clayton Bruce Hanks 9/24/1985 ~ 9/26/2009 Clayton Bruce Hanks returned to his Heavenly Father on Sept. 26, 2009. He was born September 24, 1985 to Dave and Korby Hanks in Salt Lake City, Utah. 


Thursday, September 24, 2009


Man of Holiness
is His name
i am His child

He offers me All
He wants my all
Man of Counsel

equal potential
an eager disciple
lacking discipline

i know my name
desire to yield
able to serve

His unconditional love
unlimited capacity
Endless and Eternal

Moses 7:35


Wednesday, September 23, 2009

to come

first there is the coming
i have a standing invitation
sometimes thoughts
sometimes uttered
all i need bring
my heart
He offers grace, peace
often at bedside
but i am free
at the kitchen sink
sorting clothes
cutting back roses
driving to the dentist
He always hears
He forever cares
yet still it takes

Matthew 11:28  Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.


Tuesday, September 22, 2009

so long sweet friend...

Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold,
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

i am trying to be happy about summer's farewell.
because i love autumn so... it's easy to smile.


Monday, September 21, 2009

enough and to spare


*crisp cool mornings
*reading music and fingers follow
*linda's zinnias
*sis and four cookies without
*smiling grand-daughters with peach juice drooling down chins
*clean hair
*warm bed
*harvest colors
*shiny clean fingernails
*laurel's prayer
*a fresh perspective


Friday, September 18, 2009

no small task

there is a plethora of socks
mostly basic neutral colors
each seeking a mate
few holey
all are holy

searching for mates...
i wonder at the feet
skipping, running, jumping,
fishing, working, living
carrying dear ones away
some so far

still i look-- hopeful
each has a mate
protect these feet
give them cushion and warmth
bring them home
all are holy


Sunday, September 13, 2009


it is just a ring
filled with history
given to a girl at 20
now 56

the ring bathed babes
traveled to South Africa
Switzerland, Hawaii, Mexico
lived in Pennsylvania, Utah
California, Colorado

it is just a ring
that mopped floors
washed windows
baked bread made freezer jam
folded countless jeans
lead the primary children
as they raised sweet voices

the smooth gold has a pulse
has new warmth
more living loving working trying
after all

it is just a ring
filled with history
given to a girl at 20
now 21


Wednesday, September 9, 2009


psalm 30:12

To the end that my glory may sing praise to thee, and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever.


*she loves the temple
*faith-filled ancestors
*long September walks
*desire to do
*tomato sandwiches
*restful sleep
*cool evenings
*delicious stretch where joints speak
*running water
*pale pink sunrise
*perfect stillness


Sunday, September 6, 2009

my joy is full

i knew it.
i knew as i looked out.
i wrote it on my heart.
memorizing faces, seeing families, faces absent now returned...

i knew.
this is true complete joy.
son patting new bride's shoulder.
freshly returned son still looking fresh.
prodigal daughter (her phrase not mine) sweet faced and attentive.
youngest steady sure and true.
chosen one bearing witness.

i savored one perfect moment.
i prayed a silent "thank you"
i wrote it on my heart.
i have realized the fruition of a dream.
"thank you. i will forever be grateful."

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

hands and peaches

Six years ago my brother Nathan sent this poem my way. Ever since then I find myself reviving it because my dad grows peaches, sends them my way, and I enjoy the harvest of hard won juicy jewels.

As I bit into an ever so slightly dusty peach today I pictured his hands. It was the labor of those hands that gifted me with my lunch today. All my life I have loved looking at those hands. They are big, strong, sure, steady. Many times they have actually lifted me up off the ground--I remember. But a couple of summers ago I watched those hands wash the dirt ever so sweetly off of the feet of one of my grandchildren. It did remind me of the Savior.

From Blossoms

From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

-- Li-Young Lee