My heart
My heart
Beats poetry
Words fail
When music stops
I die inside
Does God sing for me?
***
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 1 November 2016
Photo credit: DAFraser, July 2016, Rhine River
Cormorant taking off in early morning light
Telling the Truth
connecting the dots of my life
November 1, 2016
October 30, 2016
Life Lite | A Dream Revisited
~~~A woman free of her heavy load, trusting.
I can’t stop thinking about my dream, Life Rearranged. Especially the part about that awkward load I was carrying around. It wasn’t even in a bag. I was carrying it in my hands and over my arm. The way I carry folded and unfolded laundry upstairs to put it away. Read the rest of this entry »
October 28, 2016
Life Rearranged | A Dream
My dream, right before waking this morning:
I’ve just arrived at the home of a woman I met somewhere but don’t yet know. She invited me to come and see her. I brought along a few things to show her and talk about—though she didn’t say exactly why she wanted me to visit. Read the rest of this entry »
October 27, 2016
Piles of Building Blocks
Over the years I’ve accumulated piles of building blocks. Like old Legos. Pieces of my life. Some dusty and forgotten. Some I wish I could forget. Others I want to treasure forever.
Maybe someday I’ll discover Read the rest of this entry »
October 26, 2016
unread mysteries all of us
In honor of my father who died in 2010, and was born on this date in 1913–103 years ago. I’d forgotten about this poem. I wouldn’t change one word of it today.
unread mysteries all of us,
tantalizing and elusive
Several days ago I read a beautiful, evocative poem
View original post 457 more words
October 26, 2016
Queen for a Day Bans
I hate the word ‘banned’
My father was the King of Bans
My life as a child was ruled by Bans
My father’s list of Thou shalt Nots
conveniently fenced me in
and robbed evil of its hate-filled power
Wrong!
A thousand times wrong!
The wrong on the tip of my tongue
The wrong in the imaginations of my heart
The wrong in my never-delivered tirades
The wrong my father, and then I did to my body and soul
Haunts me seven decades later
I’m a Queen
though not by succession
I sometimes proclaim myself Queen
Crown myself and decide for myself
What I will and will not do or say
In the secret places of my mind and heart
from which I banned my father
I hereby proclaim myself Queen for a Day
And designate my personal bans for this day–
The 103rd anniversary of my deceased father’s birth
I hereby ban
self-neglect of my female body and soul
that minimizes its need to be respected and cared for
as a gift entrusted to me by God
I hereby ban
All assumptions about my father
Including whether he would or would not
accept my forgiveness
Finally, I hereby ban
Any shred of fear or self-righteousness
That keeps me from opening my heart
to God’s overwhelming love and acceptance of me.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 October 2016
Photo of my father, maternal grandfather, mother and me, 1943/44
WordPress Daily Prompt: Banned
October 25, 2016
Transformational Stew
Simple Beginnings Transformed:
- butternut squash, chickpeas, red lentils, onion, carrots, broth, cumin, saffron, ginger, tomato paste plus lime juice, nuts or nut butter, salt/pepper.
Six to Eight Transformational Hours in the slow cooker:
- low heat, eventual sweating, steaming, slight bubbling, melting squash and lentils, softening beans, carrots and onions, merging concentrated flavors. Simple, Nutritious, Delicious! Transformational food for my transformed body and mood.
Transformed Body and Mood? Absolutely! Consider the following evidence.
When I finished getting this process started in the kitchen, Transformation followed!
- I’m already anticipating what will be ready for supper.
- Congratulating myself that it’s actually in the crock pot.
- Keeping my nose tuned for aromas that will permeate the house like incense.
- To say nothing of relishing the Transformational Thought that I won’t need to cook anything like this for several days.
And that’s not all. Even before the stew, I woke up this morning thinking Transformative Thoughts about my life. Little things like scheduling tea with a neighbor I met while out on one of my daily walks; giving a few of my children’s books to the young twins who live next door; praying short, simple, silent prayers for people I see and think about each day, including myself—instead of fretting about getting my prayers ‘right.’
If you’re interested in the recipe for this Transformative Slow Cooker Stew, you’ll find it right here. Or better yet, why not get out your stew pot and start your own favorite Transformational Stew?
This impromptu Transformational Post comes with great thanks to WordPress Daily Post for today’s word: transformation.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 25 October 2016
Photo of stew from Eating Well Recipes
October 23, 2016
The Star’s whole Secret —
Stars over Lake Irene, Rocky Mountain National Park, Erik Stensland Photo
For over a month I’ve been going back to this poem from Emily Dickinson, trying to figure it out. Sometimes I think I get it. Other times I feel like giving up. My comments follow.
The Outer – from the Inner
Derives its Magnitude –
‘Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according
As is the Central Mood –The fine – unvarying Axis
That regulates the Wheel –
Though Spokes – spin – more conspicuous
And fling a dust – the while.The Inner – paints the Outer –
The Brush without the Hand –
Its Picture publishes – precise –
As is the inner Brand –On fine – Arterial Canvas –
A Cheek – perchance a Brow –
The Star’s whole Secret – in the Lake –
Eyes were not meant to know.c. 1862
Emily Dickinson Poems, Edited by Brenda Hillman
Shambhala Pocket Classics, Shambhala 1995
The first few times I read this poem I wanted it to say something like this: Read the rest of this entry »
October 21, 2016
Millions of Small Potatoes
Salt of the earth
Gone underground
Difficult to sow
Backbreaking to harvest
Millions of them
Grains of sand
Galaxies in the sky
Drops in the sea
Uncounted millions
Tossed aside
Trampled on
Taken for granted
Overlooked and underestimated
Our hope for the future
When we’re willing to plough
The good earth
Bend over backwards
Shed a few tears
Get our hands grimy—
No small potato left behind
From One Small Potato to Millions of Others
With Love, Hope, Vision
and Gratitude for the Faithful
Who refused to leave me behind.
Elouise♥
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 21 October 2016
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Millions
Photo of grimy small potatoes found at agannex.com
October 19, 2016
My Underground Ally
The very first exercise my physical therapist assigned me was simple. Keep your tongue on the roof of your mouth at all times, except when you’re eating, talking or swallowing. Who would have thought this small change would produce a moment of enlightenment?
Well, it did. That’s because I’m also learning to notice when my tongue wanders from its designated parking space. Here’s how it happened. Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 