gratitude

Confession

Today, for lunch, I ate a Klondike.
Yes, the luxurious ice cream bar,
The one that is covered with chocolate,
The one that melts in your mouth
With the taste of cream, sugar, and, Uh-huh, chocolate.

It cost me two hundred and fifty calories,
Which I needed to work off on my bike,
Walking the trails in our forest,
Or shooting endless hoops in the hot summer air.

Once we each devoured three Klondikes
On the fifteen minute drive from town to the cabin.
I didn’t feel too good in my stomach
That time, but I was cooler.

Maybe it is the long
Hot summer of Texas
That compels one to such excesses,
Looking for chilly, refreshing food.

Still today, the memory of its smoothness,
Coolness,
Richness. . .
Was a magnificent way
To refrigerate a hot summer day.

Cerita M. Hewett
August 24, 2015

Time Out

               Woman with crutches

                I have experienced a few “time outs” in life,
                Some illness or injury that took me out of the active game,
                A loss or disappointment that paused my busy days,
                These “breaks” have been well springs of deeper reflection,
                Benevolent “rests” in my perpetual music and dance. 

                Though uncomfortable, even painful,
                They have enriched my soul and drawn me
                Closer to friends,
                Closer to my family,
                Closer to the Lord.

                They have made me more compassionate,
                A stronger, more joyous player.

Cerita M. Hewett
March 2013

Cobweb Sweeper (for Edward)

forest running                                    The runner who
                                    Sweeps the cobwebs,
                                    On the paths through the woods,
                                    Before the dawn comes,
                                    Is on vacation.

                                    So the feathery,
                                    Sticky lines,
                                    Hit my face as
                                    I walk through the daylight woods.

                                    I held a twiggy
                                    Branch aloft,
                                    In front of my face today,
                                    To clear them for myself.

                                    My how it changed
                                    My view of the woods.
                                    It was like looking,
                                    Through a cracked
                                    Window pane.

                                    Every vista fractured
                                    By scraggy lines.
                                    But then my face
                                    Was protected and free of webs.

                                     I will be glad when
                                    The dashing cobweb sweeper,
                                    Returns to the forest.

                                                               Cerita M. Hewett
                                                               July 2014
                                                               (revised October 2014)

 

Robins

A flock of robins

Invaded our woods today.

They must be on their way North

As we don’t see them

Here in the summer.

They went straight to work

Gleaning and cleaning the forest floor.

 

I couldn’t hear their chattering

From my upstairs window,

But I could see their hunger

As they pecked, pecked, pecked.

Heads down pecking

Heads up watching

Exposing their burnt orange

Breasts to cloud muted light,

Bringing the hope of Spring on a

Cold rainy day.

 

                                                 Cerita M. Hewett

                                                 February 2015

 

He Lives

                                             I do not know why

                                                      Christmas came

                                                               So fast.

                                             In other days

                                                      It always came

                                                               ‘At last!’

                                             And yet its sounds

                                                      And smells,

                                                               And light,

                                             Are welcome to this

                                                      Mortal’s ears

                                                               And sight.

                                             Because that Holy Baby’s

                                                      Birth and

                                                               Cries

                                             Awakens once again my heart,

                                                      And pries it

                                                               Open wide,

                                             Until I smile,

                                                      And laugh,

                                                               And give

                                             My heart again to Him,

                                                      Who lived and died,

                                                               And yet still lives.

                                                                                                            Cerita M. Hewett

                                                                                                            December 2, 2013

 

The Greatest Gift

                                       I’m glad that Jesus Christ was born,

                                       In a stable long ago,

                                       And that He lived a life of love,

                                       Showing us the way of Joy.

 

                                       In dark Gethsemane, I know

                                       Christ paid the price of sin,

                                       And then He suffered on the cross,

                                       That we might live like Him.

 

                                       Thus on that bright first Easter morn,

                                      He rose triumphantly,

                                      To carry all who live on Earth,

                                       Into Eternity.

 

                                        I’m grateful for Christ’s humble birth,

                                       His life of kindness so supreme,

                                       His willing, caring sacrifice,

                                       That brings us home to God again.

 

                                      May we now living in the World,

                                      Make room within our humble hearts,

                                      To welcome daily from above,

                                      His healing, atoning, Gift of Love.

                                                                                                    Cerita M. Hewett

                                                                                                    December 2012

Nativity

                                    The long journey to Bethlehem,

                                    No room at the inn,

                                    A stable filled with love,

                                    Brown donkey watching silently,

                                    Doves softly cooing,

                                    One tiny infant’s birth cry.

 

                                    Angel songs in the night,

                                    Mary the mother filled with joy,

                                    Joseph the guardian standing amazed,

                                    Shepherds kneeling to worship,

                                    Three kings making a long pilgrimage,

                                    All mankind awaiting,

                                    SALVATION!

                                                                                                            Cerita M. Hewett

                                                                                                            2001

Thanks and Gobblers

(Thanks)

For butterfly wings and fluffy clouds,

                                    For sweet rose scent and tangy pickle juice,

                                                      For craggy rocks and soft warm sand,

                           For children’s hands.

                                    I thank thee Lord!

                                                                                    Cerita M. Hewett

                                                                                    (revised 2014)

 

(Gobblers)

 The great turkey gobbler makes a noise!

                           He gobbles at the girls.

                           He gobbles at the boys.

 

                           Though we run away from all that squabble,

                           We laugh until we nearly wobble,

                           Cause soon we’ll be the ones that gobbles!

                                                                                                                        Cerita M. Moore

                                                                                                                        About 1961