THE OLD APPLE TREE AND ME

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I wake one morning to discover

outside my window

a striking pink crown of apple blossoms

amidst the pale green new leaves of maple and walnut.

Goldfinches fly in and out among the branches

to find their spot at the feeder,

A colorful bird chorus—chickadees, cardinals, robins—sing out

My body comes alive to the beauty of spring.

My heart beats with surging vitality.

My mind flows as vague visions, vibrant voices,

become vivid vistas.

Later, seen from my patio at ground level

the apple tree’s boughs are barely leafing,

buds unopened, colors drab.

You’re old, I think.

unpruned for years,

loved for your beauty in spring

then ignored. 

No longer bearing fruit.

By mid-July your leaves will fall.

you will appear to be dying.

How many more springs will you

waken me back to life with your pink beauty                         

when the cold of winter ends?

                       

I, too, am old.                                                                                                

I, too, reawaken in spring                               

with renewed vitality driven by                            

sometimes vaporous dreams                         

that call me to follow the quiet voices that

color the path ahead and lead me

where I have not gone before.

How many more springs, summers, falls

will I live to experience this amazing life

before the final winter covers me

in its blanket of snow?

LIVING FULL IN A HALF-EMPTY WORLD

     

Yesterday I awakened slowly, did my usual morning meditations and a little journaling, then got sucked into the computer playing my two favorite solitaire games.  Eventually I thought, enough is enough.  I did a final check on emails and clicked on one from Livingston County Indivisible—a call for people to come to Howell at 2:30  that afternoon.  For the second time that week, Neo-Nazi pamphlets had been distributed—this time around the library where the group Indivisible was planning to meet.  The two beautiful and energetic women who lead the group asked that we come for a peaceful, positive “March Against Fear”, expressing our support for the people of Howell and for people of all races, colors, religions, orientations—all people who wish to live in peace and work together to insure justice.   

            I was planning on a quiet day, maybe taking a walk, writing a bit, reading.  I wavered only a few minutes before I called a neighbor and friend and we agreed to go to Howell.  I found I could not not go.  I’m 80 years old and life is slowing down—for which I’m thankful.  I no longer have the energy or desire to get on the fast track of meetings, groups, constant activity that has driven me for so long.  But the call was loud within my heart and soul.  Our country is hurting, evil that has been just under the surface has come out in the open in a way it hasn’t for a long time.  It is becoming normalized by news media and politicians.  Words and activities that, in the past would have been the death knell for a politician, are now minimized and accepted as “Locker room talk”, and “saying it like it is”, and repeated over and over to sell newspapers, magazines, TV time.  Some people shake their heads, turn off the TV, and hide from the brutal truth by watching movies or sports to avoid the uncomfortable reality of our country and the world as it is today.

            Fortunately in Livingston County, where I live, we have two young women who without much money, with a lot of courage, hard work, and an unwavering faith in goodness, have brought together people of all backgrounds to take action for peace and justice.  It is a group that is working actively and growing daily, showing courage publicly in the light of day, standing up to those who use the cover of darkness to spread words of hate. 

            Yesterday, I found myself again in the midst of an energetic crowd of people marching in the streets of Downtown Howell with signs that read, “Hate is not my Howell” and a quote from MLK Jr that read:“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

And another:  “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

            This is definitely not how I expected to spend the latter years of my life, but it has become necessary to my heart and spirit and my belief that America Is Great and we cannot risk losing that.  Apathy can be deadly.  If we are not part of the solution, we are part of the problem.  Throughout the country I am reading and learning of individuals and small grassroots groups mobilizing for justice.  No matter who we are there are things we can do.   Therefore I march and write blogs and letters.  It is the least I can do.  We can each join our voice with others.  What we cannot do is stay silent.