In memory  –  Father’s Day 2019

His mother named him Carlos, such a strange name for a Welshman. Perhaps she loved Spain. 

Summers heavy cloak hung over fields of Goldenrod, their long limbs reaching out to mesh with spiky leaves that sheltered bundles of marmalade florets.Their invasion of the meadow met with merciless machetes that hacked through  the unwelcome invaders who hadn’t the courtesy to extend a pleasant fragrance.

The trail led to an arbor by a trickling brook. Nestled  in a stand of trees a precarious trellis  bowed heavy  with  never ending appendages that wound and wove through dense clusters of bulbous translucent nipples clinging tenaciously to their host.

The scent of peppery earth stung the nostrils and attracted white tail deer that ravaged the vines of their treasure. The old man once snaked a garden hose through the lattice to frighten them, a guise that worked only to  astonish lovers lingering at fertile ground, a sacred rendezvous.

Soon the clammy dragons of summer breathed their fiery breath and the skin…

Father’s Day feels different this year. I feel less melancholic and am mainly just feeling gratitude to my Dad for the way he modelled how to relate to and to treat others. He was a pure-hearted man, who moved lives in a modest and genuine way. Not many can make that claim. Happy Father’s Day dearest Dad! Xxx

Ever-bright

Remembering your smile

Brings softness to my day

Though you’ve been gone a while

Your closeness always stays

Remembering your kindness

Your thoughtfulness, your truth

What all this brings to mind is

Such thankfulness for you

Remembering your loyalty,

consistency and light

You treated me like royalty

You did what you felt right

The melancholic miles

Since the year you passed away

Just fade into that smile

Optimistic come what may

We went out to the Dunes Apartments. Gar dimmed, then cut the lights. We blackened our faces, hoisted the gas can and walked in the dark all the way out to where the bonfire was waiting, dry and thirsty. It was autumn in Texas, but the night air was still plenty sticky.

“Do you think they’ll figure it was us?” I asked.

Gar looked at me, a slow smile formed on his lips. “Maybe, but if nobody sees us, they got nothin’.”

The woodpile rose up in front of us like an ancient funeral pyre revamped for the Gods of Football. Without this traditional sacrifice, our enemies would not be able to hold their major university event. The Sigs would not be able to deliver their speeches in their golf shirts. The girls who wouldn’t talk to us would have nothing to replace their Look-At-Me I’m A Football Queen calling…

I don’t know the future,
or what for me it has in store
I don’t know if it’ll come
peacefully or with a roar.

I don’t know if it’ll hold,
thunderous clouds or blue skies
I don’t know if it’ll bring
me smiles or teary eyes.

I don’t know if it’ll arrive
to add or take from my life
I don’t know if it’ll send
more happiness or strife.

I don’t know if it’ll appear,
as a vapor or as a stream
I don’t know if it’ll produce
in me joy or a scream.

I don’t know the future
or what lies ahead . . .
but I am certain
I will be Spirit lead!

~~~~~~~

James 4:13-15

Go to now, ye that say, To day
or to morrow we will go into such
a city, and continue there a year,
and buy and sell, and get gain:

Whereas ye…

When your worries,
leave you restless
and your fears
render you useless.

That’s when you need,
to ask God to free you
from the concerns
that you’re enslaved to.

When your anxieties,
leave you jittery
and your emotions
cause you misery.

That’s when you need,
to ask Jesus to impart
the calm only He can
bring into your heart.

When your fears and cares,
have you feeling edgy
let the peace of Jesus . . .
make your nerves steady!

~~~~~~~~

Matthew 11:28-30

Come unto me, all ye that labour
and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you,
and learn of me; for I am meek
and lowly in heart: and ye
shall find rest unto your souls.

For my yoke is easy,
and my burden is light.

King James Version
Public Domain

Copyright 2019
Deborah Ann Belka

I’ve unfolded us like origami

Ripped apart our borders

Dissected the shadowed corners

of secrets, forced  them into

the light to mourn like the hollow

bones of birds,

I have renamed us where every

memory is not an ache beneath my ribs

and every  thought is not an assault on the dead. 

My heart is the flush of peony

the color of healing scars.