I did Thursday

I haven’t thought much about the tragedy in Newtown this week. It was just too painful to approach the details of this horror. The end of the world was fast approaching and not even that moved me. My Queen reminded me of our twenty-fifth anniversary just now and I fondly recalled our early memories on Dixie Street. Twenty five years. Where have I been. I’ve had children grow up, grandchildren born and now it all seems like just a blur. A spinning of events viewed through the lens of time and called a life. Christmases and Easters and Fourth of Julys, Labor days, Halloweens and Thanksgivings all interwoven with birthdays, funerals, weddings and divorces, graduations, vacations and mundane Mondays, hump day Wednesdays, fab Fridays and mixed bag weekends. So today I’m thinking Tuesdays and Thursdays need more significance during the weekly seven. Tuesdays usually gets all buggered up every four years with that election thing going on. I guess that counts somewhat depending on your personal political bent. Bummer this year for sure. Tuesday May 20 1952 was a pretty good Tuesday. I should probably google that to make sure. Thursdays. Poor thursday. Thanksgiving is a bright spot every year. Once a year but ,what about the other 364? I really hate to pick on Thursdays but even the Mayans only had one worthwhile pick in five thousand years and, they blew it.
j

Leaves

perhaps i've dispatched as many as are left on the trees
mulch they are now but more to come
the battle isn't over until next year maybe june
in the meantime the grandkids will delight in the piles
leaves offer resonable entertainment these days
around thanksgiving every year we would rake and race into
the piles of crunchy delights wearing their mass down to half the original
a semiretired multi-century cotton basket
made the perfect impliment for rebuilding the mound
on and on the day went until the leaves and we
were slap worn out
it hasn't changed much given the evolution of the transistor
some might say it's stupid neanderthal play
that's ok once you've jumped into a pile of leaves
the urge for a primal scream just takes over
bring your cotton basket and smart phone
if you wish

jrw 11/18/2012

 

Changes

search for relevance

awkward fumbling confusing lost

pertinent to what i have no clue

sit on ice cream churns manually cranked

the swelting humidity of gerogia julys

making the rewards worth my frozen ass

banana it was flavor of the day

beneath the white oaks on dusty ellis street

where georgia granite and mortar incased the

the knotty pine of my childhood home

gone now

progress they say

we always did want an underpass

and as the years flowed and southern railways

strung longer and longer delays for folks trying to

reach the wrong side of the tracks

change came

leaving me behind

searching for constance

in a world of crumbling granite

jrw 11/17/2012

 

 

Jurisprudence. Yawn 0000000000000

Jury summons this week. Rah! Rah! Rah! Go DA. Hang 'em high Judge and gimme my pay.

The Question

It was a simple but profound question. I rocked back on my heals a moment. Grabbing the stubble on my chin for balance, I squinted a well honed cynics eye at the questioner.
The early spring day was effervescing color from every nook and cranny. A kaleidoscope of blooms shouted joyfully at every turn. Alive! Alive again!
Who was this inquisitor with such a provocative question? Couldn’t there be another time, another place to ponder the question raised. Actually the debate has occurred for centuries among learned men. Some say yes. Some say no. What say you Papa?
A simple yes should be sufficient. That’s it! Yes, and let it go. Do church, family dinner, egg hunt and enjoy a beautiful spring afternoon. I’ve answered other questions simply. Why not this one? Of course there is a Santa Claus! Ho, Ho, Ho! Yes, there is a tooth fairy! You found a dollar didn’t you.
This one needed more. There is an ugly side to the truth. Yes it will set you free but it is a painful exercise. It reveals a cruelty of men that seeks a hiding place in civil discourses. It reveals a shame that I shouted crucify Him. It reveals the quilt that comes from killing the innocent. In the end it reveals the love of a dying savior.
Papa, do you believe in Easter? Yes I believe in the resurrection son. I believe in the only one who has ever overcome sin, cheated death, and walked fully alive from the grave. Yes son, I believe in Easter because Jesus Christ lives!
I don’t understand it all son, Papa is just a simple man. You see these daffodils? They will all die soon when hot weather comes. That’s the price we pay for life in this world. Everything is dying. But, there is a kernel, a seed that never dies. Jesus knows just where the reset button is on everything. Even you and I. This time of year reminds me that hope never dies. One day if you ever think it has just ask Jesus to push your reset button. Papa has rebooted many times over the years. This Easter Papa is mighty glad that his redeemer lives. It’s kinda like having your own personal button pusher. Ask and it shall be pushed! Happy Easter son.

jrw © 04/03/2010

Happy Easter,
j

Grampostal

Grampostal: a state of altered tranquility noticed among some grandfathers when news of the kids impending arrival is received. It should be noted that not all grandfathers react in this manner. It is generally assumed that those who don't are just weird.

Super Sunday

In my lifetime men playing with their balls has progressed to a place of national preeminence. I am unsure what to make of it actually but. I do really like the buffalo wings. Pass the Ranch and celery please.
j