Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Where's the Power?

No power! How ironic, after having spent a week with the man born blind in John's gospel, with the Pharisees wandering around in the "dark", that I should be in the dark myself, quite literally. And with the darkness is the silence...the house is completely, totally silent with the only sounds i hear the wind and rain outside, the gusts sometimes threatening to shake the very foundations of my old house...the branches of my precious Japanese maple tossing in a frenzied dance, while bird feeders sway wildly- and the birds are nowhere to be seen.

It is only at times like this that i realize how noisy life has become, how- even in what usually passes for silence- the background noise persists...the hum of the refrigerator, the whisper of heat or air conditioning through the ducts, the various motors of appliances humming and thrumming along, polluting our silence with the taken-for-granted sound track of living.

So here i sit, on this blustery, rainy day, the only light coming through the big living room windows- and suddenly, there is a robin! A one robin, hopping around the side yard, celebrating the worms the rain is bringing to the surface...making the most of the gifts nearly hidden in this misty, moisty morning. And if he can, why can't i?

it's April...
nothing to do...
nowhere to go...
radio & TV & computer
     out of juice,
     their electrical life's blood disconnected
     by the blowing winds
          the persistent storm.

everything outoors
is in motion...branches tossing & turning,
trees and bushes swaying,
     pausing for bare moments for
     the wind to catch its breath,
     only to resume its bluster once again.
the wind chimes on the porch
play a crazy, jangling tune
in accompaniment to the wind's wild voice,
as gusts of rain assault the house-
first this side and then that-
as if uncertain of their source or

nothing to do...
nowhere to go...
and so i sit,, surrounded
     by the silence,
     absorbed in the spectacle of
     Nature's furious power,
     even as one lone robin
     harvests worms in the
     side yard where the
     tender white lilac
     bows & sways & nods her approval.
It is April.

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