Haiku/Poetry | Telling the Truth

triumphs and trophies

artfully spaced on his plate–

Smudge the Conqueror!

* * *

poetry in motion

he positions each precious treasure Read the rest of this entry »

Tell me if you can, if you dare–

When did it all begin?
When did I enter your supply chain?
When did I become a commodity, a disposable object
not for sale but for use on demand,
with or without pay?

When did I become your toy
to imagine as prey,
to stalk, hunt down,
toss around and torment
with or without warning? Read the rest of this entry »

2 Comments

silouetted high

silhouetted high
atop a bare tree the dove
coos a mourning song

* * *

non-judgmental, calm, soothing
predictable, unhurried, hypnotic
soft, clear, ubiquitous
unobtrusive, gentle, alert
present, unyielding, quiet
reassuring presence of God
in, with, above, beneath, around and for
each aching, bewildered, terrified corner of our
hope-hungry world
with its everyday heartaches, pain, despair,
starvation, contempt, betrayals,
confusion and brokenness

God,
Grant us courage
to accept and to be present, quiet hope today
as one of your creatures
in just one corner of this tired old world
you still love so much.
Amen

* * * * * * *

Haiku written 24 June 2014
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 25 June 2014

4 Comments

June 19, 2014

cascading waves

cascading waves break
in calm rhythmic procession—
fiddler crabs scurry

* * * * *

I loved trips to the beach on Tybee Island Read the rest of this entry »

8 Comments

June 12, 2014

house-bound dog

house-bound dog peers out
at park space green trees people–
front door closed locked barred

* * * * *

I grew up with a fierce need to be right,
a heavy dose of fear and Read the rest of this entry »

6 Comments

June 5, 2014

baptismal waters

baptismal waters
rise gently enfolding her
world-weary body

* * * * *

I’m standing in a windowless, high-ceiling concrete room
with a concrete floor, drainage holes and air vents.
A deep whirlpool tub stands in the middle
filled with warm steamy water.
The room faintly resembles a large sauna minus the wood.
Functional, not beautiful.

Mother is in hospice care after suffering a stroke weeks ago
and then developing pneumonia in the hospital.
Her ability to communicate with words is almost nonexistent.
Today she’s going to be given a bath.
I’m told she loves this, and that
Sister #4 and I are welcome to witness the event.

For the past hour caregivers have been preparing her–
removing her bedclothes, easing her onto huge soft towels,
rolling and shifting her inch by inch onto a padded bath trolley,
doing all they can to minimize pain and honor her body.
Finally, they slowly roll the trolley down the hall.

The hospice sauna room echoes with the sound of
feet, soft voices, and running water.
It takes a team to carry out this comforting
though strange and even unnerving ritual.
Mother is safely secured to the padded bath table and
then lowered slowly into the water.
Her eyes are wide open.

For a few moments she fixes her eyes on mine.
The table descends bit by bit.
How does she feel?
What is she thinking?
At first her eyes seem anxious.
Is she afraid?
The warm waters rise around her and the table stops descending.
Her face relaxes and she closes her eyes.

The team works gently, thoroughly, not in haste.
They focus on her, talk to her and handle her body with reverence.
My eyes brim with tears.
This woman who bathed me, my three sisters
and most of her grandbabies is being given a bath
by what appears to be a team of angels in celestial garments.

They finish their work and roll Mother back to her room.
Her bed has clean sheets.
Fresh bedclothes have been laid out.
Caregivers anoint her body with oil and lotion, turn her gently,
and comment on how clear and beautiful her skin is.
They finish clothing her, adjust the pillows to cradle her body,
pull up light covers and leave her to fall asleep.

* * *

Last Sunday I witnessed the immersion baptism of seven young people at my home church. I couldn’t help recalling this tender, even sacramental immersion just days before Mother’s death, and decided to share it with you.

Haiku written 3 June 2014
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 June 2014