So I begged and pleaded
and plucked the weeds
I waited for something
to answer to my needs

But the silence of winter's
snow softly fell
There was no echo rising
from my empty well

I looked up
with pleading eyes
Only to find icy
brow and lies

Wasn't even asking
for space on the shelf
What less selfishness
must I do to prove myself

Thus the carrot dangles
from from the stick
Telling me to prepare
for the coming kick

Amen

Yes , "if not for you"
Then comes all the banter
All of the glory
That we so undeservingly
deserved

I once surprised a waterbug (actually a roach only tinier) on my kitchen counter . I grabbed a handy jar and lid and scraped the pest into the jar intent on its oblivion . I left it on the counter intending to starve it to death . After a week had gone by it's exoskeleton turned white . All movement had stopped but it was still alive . To me it appeared it was in a state of meditation , motionless as if contemplating the most cosmic questions imaginable . This went on for another week before I began to respect the dignity of this amazing insect . Then I felt compassion and regret over what I had done so I put a drop of water in the jar to see what would happen . At first the insect remained motionless then went over to the water but stopped right at the edge and to me it appeared to give thanks before drinking any . I thought that was strange so I put a piece of bread in to see what would happen next . The same thing again happened . At first nothing and then the approach and stop and again the appearance of grace before consuming . I was so impressed I let it go after it had had its fill . Then I realized we are waterbugs compared to God and we are put into a jar here on Earth and we are starved for the words of God (Ye shall not live by bread alone but by every word that commeth from the mouth of God) and finally we are to give thanks for everything we receive in exchange for love , grace , forgiveness and ultimately life .

~o~o~o~
Skin is the one that gets wrinkled,
it deals with the heat and the cold
of one's existence...not the mind,
the heart, or feelings...character
and determination mellow with the
passing years...brain is hidden,
but has always been gray...hair
gets visibly gray with age.
~o~o~o~
Seasons, and life's lessons
help broaden and wizen
narrow minds...a much awaited
solitude, that silent dialogue with
the soul, gives light and sense to
questions...it pays to be in touch.
~o~o~o~
Late summers have come...a face
that once youthfully beamed
with smiles...still smiles,
the grayed crown sparkles under
the sun...making it known that,
lightning still flashes in the mind,
thunder still roars through the veins.
~o~o~o~
Underneath wrinkled skin and gray,
thinning hair, there still breathes
within, a little girl or a boy...a once
young lady, or young man, now
aging men and women...more
introspective and ruminative...but,
it's still you, him, her, me...it's still US!
~o~o~o~
Not much changes, just numbers, gray
hair...lined skin, and plenty of wisdom.
~o~o~o~


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
  February 6, 2022