Aug 24, 2009
Aug 17, 2009
Aug 13, 2009
When I think of "home", one memory that comes to mind is the family farm where I grew up (in Allentown, NJ). I got to be on vacation last week at the beach with most of the family that I grew up with. I loved the farm when I was growing up, but when my parents moved from there several years ago is when I really began to appreciate it's beauty--the farmhouse, which was like a palace to me, the incredible gardens, the fields, the creek. It is so much a part of who I am. And as I grow and learn on my faith journey, that place--and specifically the bonds that were formed, the love that grew and flourished remind me that in many ways my authentic self, is that little girl with wide eyes of wonder and a quiet curiosity.
Over the next weeks, I'm going to share some poems I wrote a few years ago which are memories of that place, along with some I've written recently about how that beginning shaped me. I hope you enjoy taking the journey with me.
THE STORIES THE ASH TREE COULD TELL
If the ash tree could talk of all the secrets told there
Of who loved who and heartbreak, pain and tears
Of joyful laughter, of stories imagined, then sweetly shared
The solace and peace of the arms that held each heart
Watching a family grow from toddler to grown
Hearing the explicit plan of each escapade to the creek
For just as he provided deep and loving protection from the world
Revealing the splendor of the family he embraced for so long
Oh the stories the ash tree could tell