Archive for Lone Oak

Summer……

Posted in Where Angels Perch with tags , , , , on May 22, 2010 by rodzink

Lying in their beds…sleeping kids… Windows open… allowing a cool summer breeze…  the smell of blooming privett… honeysuckle…  Somewhere in the distant…across the hollow where Winter’s open hardwood has sprouted a heavy green veil…a nocturnal owl shares her peaceful sonnet… her voice echoes like rain, refusing to cease… feeding everything ‘neath a dark heaven too far to reach or understand. 

Belle holds her doll with an innate embrace… a beautiful ember placed in the soul of a little girl, destined to become a wonderful young lady… Baker stirs and I realize he is a thousand miles away…on an untamed and foreign hillside, climbing towards the sun and manhood… If only I could enter their dreams… but I’ll wait.. hold them close, awaiting their return in the morning…. 

Another Summer has come… tomorrow, it will disappear… leaving traces of memories.. vapors over a cooling fire… and I’ll walk in the comfort of the evening, while they sleep…..collecting…gathering….  understanding that today is a privilege and I will absorb this moment… this borrowed day. Another day…another season… my rapidly growing children.  Growing up faster than my heart can afford…

I’ve sat on many distant mountains…. waited all night for a sunrise…. always arriving quickly.. although expected…but incredibly sudden….  One morning, I’ll awake… it will be sudden… and this beautiful childhood….will become a young adult’s recollection of life.  The experiences… the things they’ve witnessed… the rebuilding of esteem, confidence… family restructuring… a complete upheaval of all things… these things will be carried into tomorrow… their relationships…  We have much, however, and many good things to carry… are so very blessed.. there is devotion in abundance…. Its redundant waves pound the shore..unceasing…enduring and consistent.  They are growing… I am growing… it is well. 

Watching them sleep…. the peace of a sleeping child…the dew is settling…quenching all things.  All things

Daffodils…..

Posted in Where Angels Perch with tags , , , , on March 24, 2010 by rodzink

Baker reached out and took her hand, assisting as Belle eased into the stream.  Eager to wade…explore…celebrate childhood… and the approaching Spring….their red heeler shadowed every move, every crossing, enthusiastically wagging her tail… Squatting along the green, moss-covered rocks, I watched them disappear upstream…voices trailing off… the sounds of footfalls in the water dissipating… the dog, Gigi, in pursuit….  Just like that…. as quickly as the snow melts and the daffodils surface… I pray they are prepared… and that I am prepared.

The sound of water flowing across rocks…swirling in the shallows….temporarily delayed… pile up the rocks and dam the progress, knowing that gravity and viscosity ultimately prevail…

Reflection on the water…after these wearisome days… worn and tattered…. a banner left on display through wind and rain…scarcely legible…and I am very happy… I have been provided with a blessing… a gift…. Unencumbered children… freedom… a stalwart relationship with these two…. and I know….as the mountains are all connected… and the roots of all trees are entwined….I will go wherever they go….and they with me. 

In another season… perhaps when the dogwoods are in full display….amongst emergent bud and delicate bloom…as Life weaves her braids…and I am surely becoming my blessings and memories and gifts… proud of my children… content with our path….confident with tomorrow.

Lone Oak…

Posted in Where Angels Perch with tags , , , , on February 3, 2010 by rodzink

Ice clung to the trees.. stressing the limber branches… Rows of white pines bowed and payed the required homage as Wind and Winter passed…  The trickling Earth flowed somewhere ‘neath the fozen crusty surface, traveling the unnamed tributary of Buster Creek….ultimately to the Gorge..miles away.. as she rides ravine and hollow.  Baker, settled and deer-like, slipped through the muffled hardwood…disappearing with Dog and Gun… another rite of passage entered….steadily venturing towards becoming a young man.  Planting my boots in the snow… resisting… I watch him go and can only ask that God and conscience take my place. 

Sweeping the woods and stream and soul… seasonal cleansing snow… our lives plentiful and bountiful….. the treasures left behind as Wind moves west… the lonely oak is envied by the massive stand of pines… grouped like a murder of crows across the hollow… thick and expendable.