Where Do Babies Come From?


Poetry with lines too lovely not to Reblog.

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where_do_babies_come_from_by_hotamr-d4m0a0y

Where did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into here.

Where did you get your eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.

Where did you get that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.

What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than anyone knows.

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.

Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke, and it came out to hear.

Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into hooks and bands.

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as…

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Contrast


A Solitary Sunday.  With my spouse under the weather, the house is as quiet as a mouse.  Yes, it’s true.  I hear nothing.  Not even the scampering of soft fuzzy gray.  No grown children visiting today.  No toddlers to chase or grand-babies to rock.  The sound of silence is all around me.  Life is full of contrasts in this way.

The past week has been an unusual one.  Nearly every day the sun shined bright in the sky only to contrast at some point with the threat of foreboding storms.  Often when I looked up, charcoal gray skies floated above while blustery winds blew by.  Eventually, sheets of rain screamed sideways, this way and that.  Afterwards, silence befell before various sounds were heard.  Cracks of lightening followed by SNAPS.  Brushes of tree limbs fell to wet blades of emerald grass.  Swishes of leaves swept the air before landing in a loud crash.  Finally, rushing water flowed toward a cement street drain.  Gurgles of liquid dropped down..down…down.

The last several days have been full of contrast.  Clear blue skies altered with islands of darkness.  Eventually, clouds parted, allowing sparkling sun to peek from behind sounds of brief silence.  Minutes afterward, favorite feathered friends of mine began to sing sweet, familiar songs while flying to patio feeders.  Red cardinals, canary yellow finches, florescent blue buntings, cinnamon sparrows and red-breasted robins.

Life is full of contrast.  Eventually the glory of light brightens darkness while sweet sounds begin to snuff silence.

Contrast….

 

Are You Hoping For Spring?


      It’s bitter cold outdoors, and yet the view through my cherry blinds of wood depict the promise of a coming spring.  Yes, a patchwork quilt of powdered snow covers the climbing hill behind my home. 

      Rays of sun sparkle through a forestland of tall gray trees, sharing shadowed imprints of majestic trunks atop blades of evergreen grass barely peeking through. 

      Grabbing a jacket to hear the beauty of it, I stepped onto my ice-covered patio.  There, I gazed at a sky the color of a bluebird’s breast and indeed heard wings chirping by.  

      Leafless limbs scattered their fingertips of weathered bark from one end of vastness to the other.  They reached nearly out of sight, surely toward an unseen cloud of Heaven.

      I looked into the viewfinder of my phone to snap a photograph.  The sight I saw was pretty, not altogether unusual.  “Click-click.” And, then my picture came through, nearly taking my breath away.

      Although it is the sun, it seems as though the light of God shines brightly between the oaks of the forest, making way for spring.  Or perhaps an angel soars wearing blinding wings to beckon this new season that I’m hoping for?

      Tell me, do you see what I see?

      

      The Meaning and Magic of Christmas


      What does Christmas mean to you?  For me, it’s a time of faith, remembrance and celebration.  The story of Jesus’s birth together with all that He represents.  Our savior, my belief in miracles, angels from above and of course the magic of the season.  A time when life is beautiful and all that is good in the world comes to be.

      Last week, on Thursday, December 18th, I was busy writing my blog post “Traditions,” here in the comfort of my office space.  Outdoors, the morning had been blanketed with freshly fallen snow.  Deciding to stay cozy and warm, I wrapped myself in a fuzzy bathrobe of primary colored hearts.  If anyone peeked in the window, they’d see what looked to be a giant Valentine’s Day greeting card!  My hair was damp after a shower with strands falling from underneath a blue cotton towel.  Each time I took a sip from a “Favorite Sister” coffee mug, two or three curls in different shades of blond fell into puddles of cream.

      “Ting-a-Ling.”  Sounds of my cell phone were ringing.  Almost singing.  An interruption.  Glancing down, I knew this call could be important.  My son was on the other line.  “I don’t want you to worry, Mom,” he said.  “She’s in labor.”  He went on to say the labor stopped.   The doctor was probably going to send them home.

      Moving a few things to the side of my desk, I gathered my thoughts once again.  On the glass of my half-moon desk, a red stapler to the left.  Stacks of books to my right with yellow sticky notes and a pen of blue ink on top of a legal pad lined in green.  A shiny new mouse in jet black resting on top of a pull-out drawer.  Click-click.

      Half an hour later, my cell phone rang again.  Call me crazy, but even the ring tone sounded different this time.  Without glancing down, I picked it up to answer.  A ‘trying-to-be-calm’ voice was on the other end.   Babies of two were coming at one!

      My heart began to race together with the whole of my body.  Looking at my desk clock, I had exactly one hour to get to the hospital.  Pressing “Send” on my hopefully finished blog post, I dressed and drove to the hospital, arriving five minutes before surgery was scheduled.

      There was my son, dressed in scrubs, looking taller and older than I ever remembered him to be.  Within minutes, I knew the big of his heart would forever slay a dragon for his soon-to-be angels without wings.

      At 1:31 and 1:32 on December 18th God gave me the best Christmas presents I could ever wish for.  Miracles to be sure.

       

      Payton Camille weighed in at 4lbs. 13 oz. while her bigger sister Olivia Lynn weighed 5lbs. 8 oz.  Both are 18 ½ inches long.  Born premature, they were immediately whisked off to the Special Care Nursery.  Finally, I was able to hold them yesterday.  No better feeling in all of this world.

      Mom is coming home today, with her precious babies following by Christmas Day.

      This is the true meaning and magic of Christmas.  Celebrating the birth of Jesus.  A time when life is beautiful and all that is good in the world comes to be.

       

       

       

      Lamplight


      “Please, take all that I own, relieve my child of pain and make her well again,” begged the wealthy, young father.  He proudly stood in his home of thick sand-colored stucco, trying to comfort his sleep deprived wife.  Windows of bubbled glass cast shadows that danced in the light of the lamp.  Soon, soulful sounds of a wistful song were sung by a brilliant yellow canary.  Hanging high above the dusty windowsill was a hand-built wicker cage where the tiny bird fluttered and flit and flew.

      “I’ll do all that I can” answered the wise doctor, who tenderly gazed upon his gravely ill patient.  “In the end, however, it is God’s decision.  And, I’ve come to understand that He has no need for material things.”

      Let us Pray

         fildes_doctor_col

      Life and Death


      I am not to question why the flame of a candle dims, burning out unexpectedly.  Around me, the air feels of slight warm breath.  Floating, cloud like and breezy.  Tipped wick of soot flickers, igniting new light within.   From a cocoon, new butterfly wings flicker and flutter in colors of crayon yellow, red and burning blue.  Rejoice in all things anew.

      Kim Gosselin

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      Kaleidoscope of Miracles


      Shadows of darkness surround me everywhere, yet they soothe my soul.

      Not to worry.  I see everything, everywhere.  Up above, my mother’s heart so near.  Pink and dear.  It beats with love, do you hear?  Thump…thump, thump…thump. It’s comforting to me.

      Take a breath.  Deep.  Deeper still.  Hold it now.  Close your eyes to imagine picture postcards of the unimaginable.  Trust me enough to view this kaleidoscope of miracles.

      Tip-toe through sparkles of ocean sand.  Feel liquid warmth of foaming white trickling over toes…1 to 10.  That’s me!  Brush wispy flying hair away from sweet soft face.  Lift a coral conch shell aloft to your tender ear.  Quiet now.  Listen closely.  Slight waves are washing back and forth.  Shhhh… that’s what I hear.

      Swooosh!  My tiny torso just flipped like a fish in the sea.  Swimming… such a small space inside for me.  My mother felt it.  My father could see!  A miniature foot kicking to the top of the roof!   Arms of slight floating every which way with hands of fragile fingers.  I touch clear walls.  Like jelly it feels…ohhh, so magical!

      This is exactly the place for me to be.  Right now, here in this moment.  Far too early for precious lungs to fill with air on earth.  My mother prays.   She rests her head on goose down pillows while caressing gentle hands beneath a bulging belly.  Yes, that’s me, and more.  Wait you see…..

      Look closely.  There she is, just below.  A mirror image of myself sleeping in a separate sac.  Ohhhh, eyes wide open looking back!!  Since the day of conception my sister has been here with me.  In the beginning she was a secret, until doctor’s discovered her.  Soon she’ll be shared with all the world.  But, for now she is mine alone and I am hers.  We are identical, yet different.  While I am swimming in the sea, she is taking a nap!

      Look now through your kaleidoscope of miracles to see the unimaginable.

      Didn’t I tell you?

      Off Tips of Shiny Silver Wings


      Off on vacation, I am.  Sounds of humming engines vibrate below covered feet.  Whooshing air blows cool and quietly past ears to the left and to my right.   Unaware, those around me sleep fitfully with eyes partially closed. Irises of blue, green or brown, some speckled with golden flecks peek from bodies twisting this way or that in an effort to get comfortable in nearly impossible positions.   Hmmm…I’m looking at rows and rows of ‘pretzels’ poured from cellophane bags.  Twisted arms, legs, and feet sticking every which way, their cushions nearly too small to hold them all.

      Here I am, sitting huddled in an assigned seating space near the bubble of a plastic window shade.  Raising it with the left of my hand, morning light floods the cabin with a brilliance never quite seen before.  Shades of golden yellow, coral, orange, and cotton white nearly blind me with the beauty of a magnificent sunrise painted against billowing clouds of smoky blue.

      How sad for the salted “pretzels” around me who shall miss this magic in the sky!  I want to shake them, wake them from their slumber.  Suddenly from the Flight Attendant’s microphone an announcement is made.  “Hurry, look to the East.  Wonderment is awaiting you.” Ahhh, my imagination is playing tricks on me once again….

      Then, I stop to sigh.  Perhaps this “Here and Now” moment is for me alone to embrace, to tuck within my heart or to lock away in a trunk of forever memories?  Yes, my bubble window space has been a quiet blessing during this unexpected dawn of spectacular seconds for this day to stow away.

      Sparkling rays of brilliant sun point towards Heaven off tips of shiny silver wings.  Look beyond to see and hear what angels do……

       

       

      My Happy Place


      There is a familiar spot here in great St. Louis, where people flop inside or outside, leaving their troubles behind for another time.  Actually, this hang-out is located in a toy town called Kirkwood, about ten miles from the chocolate color of my dusty garage door.

      When summer begins to wane the weather is perfect, like this time of year.  Today, barely a soul of young or old can be found inside the multiple front doors of the welcoming café.  Instead, eagle eyes scan the outdoor crowd, looking for any sign of movement in case an imaginary “Vacancy” sign pops up.  Deep breaths are taken.  Fresh air is inhaled while lungs expand. Ahhh, relaxation begins!

      It is here that a new discovery is made each and every time I visit.  Who would think that a simple, non-descript patio made of concrete cement would have such an impact on my life?  And, yet it does.  This is my Happy Place.  A corner of wired tables in black with matching chairs on top of grey.  Wait…take a seat, sit down to rest your feet.  Shhh, watch and listen.  This is a haven full of people who are living in the moment.

      Do you see what I see?  There are mothers pushing strollers, babes in arms, Daddies giving horsy-rides and coffee cups made of china white.  Children riding scooters, chocolate milk clutched in little hands, bikers, joggers, bunnies in wagons and toasted bagels laden with cream cheese.  Kisses on cheeks, grandparents carrying toddlers, and dogs-of-all-kinds. Pacifiers in pink or blue, books being read and luxury leashes made of leather.  Working laptops, baked banana bread so good, couples on first dates, I-phones, singles and fountains splish-splashing.  Love is in the air, walkers, bottles filled with water, smiles, secrets and even bellies-SO BIG!

      My husband clasps my hand to find me the best seat.  He pulls out my chair before inquiring what I’d like to sip and eat.  “A vanilla cappuccino,” he asks, expecting a “Y.E.S.” Next, his words so sweet, “A cinnamon roll warmed for you?”  He is the very best man and I am the luckiest of women.  Soon he comes back with my treats.

      While nibbling, I stop to “people watch,” snap a few pictures, and meet new friends.  The sun feels warm to my skin, pinking my cheeks.  Next to me, I meet the cutest Labradoodle who excitedly poses for me.  And then, a “Hallmark” moment begins.

      A few feet away, the sweetest girl of young reaches up and over on tippy-toes to kiss her loved one so dear.  She has long and lovely dark hair, wears shorts and seems to surprise the woman who is older than she.  My heart skips a beat.

      Seconds go by.  The freshly kissed woman passes our table.  My husband smiles, pointing to our phone.  “Look,” he says, stopping her.  A gentle grin, big and wide slides over pretty, white teeth.  She is touched by what she sees, going on to tell us a bit about her lovely grand-daughter.

      Looking across at her table, she notices more seats taken.  Chairs pulled out.  Tennis shoes underneath.  This time by her husband together with a darling, young grand-son wearing metal and leather braces strapped to thin legs.  Briefly, we talk about Chronic Conditions.  “He was born with clubfeet,” she says, speaking of her other darling one.  “He’s already had several surgeries,” she adds, “with more to come.”  She speaks matter-of-factly, with no hint of ‘woe-is-me‘ in her voice when she glances over at her loved ones.

      There is no doubt, no question in my mind that this is where I am supposed to be.   Right now, right here at this moment in time.  A new Life Lesson for me today.  How special it is to have and hold this “Hallmark” tip-toed kiss upon a grandmother’s lips!  From an innocent grand-daughter to her loving grandmother.  A story of life trials chock full of smiles on this very morning.  Lucky for me.

      No matter how brief, this will forever be “My Happy Place.”

       

      Little Girl Lesson


      She was there at the bus stop, waiting like the others.  Her bus was yellow too, but was smaller with a wheelchair lift in a grid of patterned, painted metal.  Cars were parked behind her mother’s older van.  One…two…three…waiting impatiently.

      It was late spring in the coolness of warm weather-to-be.  Flowers and trees bloomed everywhere.  Pink and purple or double blooms of white, smelling fragrantly.  At the corner, children pressed buttons to roll down windows.   Heads of boys hung out side to see what the commotion was all about.  Girls who couldn’t care less, texted in back seats while chewing gum and clicking tongues.

      Air, still damp wafted through hallows of vacuumed cars.  Birds in high, high branches tweeted songs from above, while warming engines shut down from below.   Healthy kids who took dancing lessons in afternoons or batted balls early in nights, didn’t know or understand what they waited for.

      There was a hidden motor buzzing like baby bees helping to ‘lift’ a lower platform to the ground.  Suddenly, children’s eyes looked carefully.  They saw a young woman with a pony tail of glazed copper standing under a sky of blue together with a round of gold.  From the side, she guided forms of metal gently to the ground.

      The aged van that was parked behind the mini yellow, held a dainty girl together with her waiting mother.  The van was grey in color with a magic sliding door that suddenly opened revealing a ‘lift’ much like the mini-bus of yellow.  Sitting on top was a miniature wheelchair holding a delicate child with skin of white and hair of red.  The ‘lift’ lowered her to the ground where her mother waited, protectively.  She brushed air curls of hair away, something simple that her daughter could not do with arms not able to work like yours or mine.

      Other children who had walked, stopped to stare.  Not to tease or gloat or bully.  Without saying a word, the little girl sitting in the wheelchair spoke volumes.  In a matter of minutes, a major lesson had been taught.  Other children realized how lucky they were to run and jump and dance and play.  No more taking God’s gifts for granted!  Live life to the fullest each and every day.

      Be thankful in every way.

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