Friday, January 13, 2017

Tree of Life



One day at a time
One way at a time
One person at a time
We each have the capacity
To be the change we want to see
And make the life we want to live
By extending
And receiving

I found this picture on Facebook earlier
I really liked it
So I am sharing it with you today

were it not for us

Who would have thought 
the unthinkable
Who would have dreamed
the impossible
Who would have sought
the unattainable
Who would have seemed
Were it not for 
the dreamers
the schemers
the artists
the writers
Were it not
for us?

~ Ellen Apple
13 January 2017

Thursday, January 12, 2017

war in the basement

we played war in the basement
when I was a young girl
with an ancient doughboy helmet from WWI
liberated from my grandmother's attic
and empty ammo clips and many pairs of earplugs
that came from the first television war -
you remember that one?
the war that wasn't a war
old red ink from a corner shelf
cloths from the ragbag for bandages
our hardware was an old bb-gun
that never did shoot right
and cap pistols - of course
we had parades in circles around the washing machine
blowing on a recorder and banging
on a toy xylophone with sticks as hammers
I fear we were rather eclectic in our
historical appropriations
all conflicts were sourced for
our tailor-made assaults
but movies and Walter Cronkite taught us well
the words and deeds we emulated
now I watch
Anderson Cooper and Rachel Maddow
and fear for the future of
the precious wee ones in my life
weighs me down
and I wonder how our parents and
teachers did not expire from the weight
so much sorrow poured in their souls
all the while we played
war in the basement

~ Ellen Apple
12 Jan 2017

when given naught

Who would have thought
E'en when given naught
On which to build a dream
Which to others might seem
Just a child's whimsy
"Banking on hope is just ... flimsy"
That letter on letter
Word on word
A tome for the ages is just so crafted
Lost to the masses if not first drafted
In the soul and the mind
That but for happenstance we find
In the dark hours of sorrow
When others joy we borrow
It pulls us to joy
Like a a squeaky wooden toy
Tied with a red string
Just an insignificant thing
That one act of grace
Humankind's face

~ Ellen Apple 
12 Jan 2017