The Pull of the Great Reflector

We laugh as we wolf-howl at the Super Moon, the Hunter’s Moon

hovering over the dark night in the west, just as dawn begins her

approach in the east. Low in the sky, immense, delicately veiled by a

thin layer of Patricia’s clouds. We howl again in fun, but stop to

marvel while the moon radiates sunlight downward as a shimmering

partial pie wedge, sparkling over dark, soft clouds rising up to

cover the great reflector. Within a short period of five minutes, as we

drive north, the pie wedge shrinks up, up, and then thin, dark lines of

encroaching clouds cross over the vast silvery disk, imitating Saturn.

Silently, gradually, just before the five minutes slip away, the silvery

glowing disk shrinks into a pastel patch of pink fuzzy light, the

size of a heavenly postage stamp, then poof…it is gone behind our future.

 

(Later, as I sat in the doctor’s office, waiting for the Husband’s checkup, I was forced to listen to the news, and learned that this particular Super Moon caused one of the largest high tides in the history of the east coast. Charleston, South Carolina is flooded again, along with other areas on the coast, down through Florida, because of the Hunter’s Moon-tide, along with complications from Patricia, a hurricane twice as enormous as her older sister Katrina)

Brief Dawn

Clouds allow the rising sun to briefly

slap itself against some houses, whose

cold, long shadows in the rear cling to

what they can of a fallow field as the

sun splashes fresh, yellow brightness

between the homes until the sudden

cheerful light is shut off by the clouds

One Morning, Traveling East to Dodge

Drove into the morning, where a huge rainbow had stood the evening before

Now a splendid, eye-dazzling display of the sun glows

behind glossy, lacy, thin, calligraphy clouds that

shimmer with silver, gold, orange, yellow, white, blue, and gray

fleecing across the white sun, over the baby blue sky, while

a colorful train moves in to join me on my left for a short time

A magnificent, soul-inspiring ride, then

I realized that absolutely everything in this existence is temporary

the rainbow from last night, trains, clouds, pain, storms, good health, loved ones, enemies, beauty and ugly; the sun and moon even move around, disappear

all just glimpses, tantalizing or terrifying, of permanent, future places

like the tantalizing, dazzling samples of an eternal heaven—breathtaking beauty in nature, in people, in actions, in feelings, in thought, in emotions—all things that reasoning people desire: wonder and happiness

like the terrifying, alarming samples of an eternal hell—soul-sucking pain in nature, in people, in actions, in feelings, in thoughts, in emotions—all things that reasoning people shun: horror and misery

Oh, see what a morning drive toward a hospital can stir up

August 28, 2015, Thursday

TR

Tempest Temper

We, like the birds outside, huddle inside, while a

severe thunderstorm swoops down at nightfall

with heavy rain, flood warnings, high wind gusts

lightning exploding everywhere

Not interested in the ground, blinding electric white arms

poke through the clouds, arc jaggedly back around up to

stab and jab at neighboring cloud bellies repeatedly

We, like the birds, huddle and watch

TR

Things that Shove

While I sit on the porch bench

wild winds blow noisily out of the southeast

shoving tree branches and leaves toward the northwest

while agitated storm clouds speed high above out of the northwest

darkening the skies to the southeast

Two winds rushing in two different directions

one on the top of the other in the same sky

Winds like that can really mess up the hair

In the same way

wild events and emotions recently blew noisily out of nowhere

heading me in different directions, both within and around me

Things like these can really mess up the hair, too

(P.S.: My husband is recovering nicely from having blood clots in the lungs, and I’m recovering from all the adrenaline flows.  Sitting in the wind yesterday afternoon, made me realize it was no different than what has been happening within me for the past two weeks.  I’m enjoying a peaceful time now, until the next storm)

TR

A Different Kind of Cookie

Drowning with gloom, mists, tears

I float above bright white clouds

hiding the gloom, mists, rains

on the world below

me clouds world

like a sandwich cookie

only not as sweet

 

This written while riding on United from San Diego to Chicago to Wichita on the early morning of June 10 after being told that my husband had been hospitalized in Dodge because of blood clots in his legs and lungs.  The doctor’s there have since saved his life and my husband is recovering nicely.

TR