Brenda Smith

Haiku

Stones tossed

ripples across lake

no sound heard.

Lost in life

darkness clothes pathway

soundlessness

Children play quietly

adults’ body language speaks

deadening silence

Water falls mist forms

sun shines through misty white cloud

rainbow seen through broom

The Service

People reverently enter the

sanctuary.

Whispers heard

Soft soothing music plays

Children squirm

Pastors walk aisle together

Flag draped casket follows.

Family enters sanctuary

Sit in reserved pews.

Sobs heard.

Somber faces seen.

Scripture read.

Prayers offered.

Accolades said.

Life slides flash

Precious memories.

Laughter heard

Pastor’s consoling words.

Dismissal blessing.

Pallbearers push flag draped casket

Pastors follow.

Family walks behind.

Cemetery

Dirt mound

Open grave

Flowers

Twenty one gun salute.

Taps heard, bugler unseen.

Flag folded.

Family receives flag.

Last ‘good-byes’ said.

Another Hero laid to rest.

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Heart-Self

Trying to find my self

in a tangled world.

A heart forced to love

and forgive.

Where, oh where is my heart, my self?

Do heart and self seek

forgiveness and compassion?

Or do they dwell on evil—

gloom and doom?

Where, oh where is my heart, my self?

Must my heart and self be

validated?

Or am I responsible for

my own self validation?

Where, oh where is my heart, my self?

Have my heart and self made a

difference in anyone’s life?

Or have they not created any

waves in life’s ocean?

Where, oh where is my heart, my self?

Brenda Smith ©copyright 050108

Dancing in the Rain

Spring has arrived. The rain
drops that are falling
outside are proof. My sister
and I look yearningly out
the window at the big
beautiful raindrops.

Sneak. Sneak. We must sneak
outside without our mother
seeing or hearing us go
out the back door.
Racing. Our hearts are racing
as we sneak out the back
door.

Freedom. We are outside!
The raindrops land on top
of our heads, then roll
off the tip of our noses. We
open our mouths to try
to catch the raindrops. The
rain soaks through our clothing
to our skin. This feels
so good and so refreshing.

Twirl. Twirl. We are ballerinas.
Dancing, dancing for a
large audience. The faster we
twirl around the higher the skirts
of our dresses rise.
We are barefooted and
we feel the mud squeezing
between our toes

We have no cares but to enjoy
our dancing in the spring rain.
The dogwood tree in the
front yard is our flowering
umbrella. We dance on our
tiptoes, then on our heels, then
on the ball of our feet around
and around the dogwood tree.

Oh, how wonderful
it is to be a ballerina dancing
in the rain. Our mother does not
know we are outside
the house, dancing in the
rain. We know we are not
suppose to be doing this,
but that is what makes
it so much fun.

Then our dancing is ended because
we have been discovered.
We hear our mother say that we must
come into the house before
we catch our death of cold.
We plead to be allowed to
continue to dance in the rain.
But our mother said we must
come in now. She said we had
danced enough for one day.

But we knew there would be other
days in the spring that
the rains will come.
When the rain comes again
we will again sneak out of
the house to go dancing
in the rain.

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bds/JS

Spring

Spring, oh, Spring has

begun to arrive with

her bags packed with her

many items to decorate

the Earth.

Spring has set her

alarm clock to awaken

this great giant we

call Earth. The Earth shivers

from the cool breezes

of Spring as it stretches

to fully awaken itself from

Winter’s long nap.

Spring begins the Earth’s

renewal process by creating

a warming of the environment.

The Earth warms like a cake in a

slow oven.

The Earth is thirsty after

its long nap, so Spring sends

gentle showers to refresh

the Earth. The showers fall

on the Earth like Spring is

holding a large watering

can directing where the

showers will fall.

As the Earth warms, Spring

opens her bag of external

decorations. Trees begin to

come out of their dormant

state. Trees reach their branches

toward the Sun and bask

in its warmth. Buds appear

on their branches like small

bumps, Then Spring burst

forth through the buds as these buds

become either leaves or blossoms.

As the Earth continues to warm

Spring sees the small green shoots

pushing their way through the

dirt to stretch toward the warmth of

the Sun. She watches as their

journey is completed and their

colorful blooms appear.

Spring listens and she hears

nature’s melody, the chirping

songs of the birds. They fly

from tree to tree spreading

their joyful melody for all

to hear.

Spring stands back like a great

artist and admires her great

masterpiece. She is pleased and

smiles pleasantly at the well

coordinated mixture of colors.

She packs up her bags for her

work is finished and Summer

will follow.

Spring. Oh Spring how beautiful

you have refreshed and decorated

the Earth.

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