LONGING FOR HOME

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

Climbing up to the top, or sitting on the lowest limb

Or sprawled beneath the lush shade of that old friend

Where dreams were dreamed and promises kept

Where shouts of glee met quiet whispers in the night

Watching a family grow from toddler to grown

Of baseball, soccer and football games observed

Cheered each one by quietly waving the might branches

Leaves rustling in the word or catching a foul ball in his trunk

Hearing the explicit plan of each escapade to the creek

Who would build the raft, or race through cattails

Could a fort be built in the brush by the water?

Who would take the first sled ride down the hill?

Sharing the delight, then watching as each found a life of their own

Leaving...one by one...to explore new lands, bigger adventures

Yet knowing that his robust arms embrace each one well

Provided a strong foundation where values were born and lived

For just as he provided deep and loving protection from the world

His wisdom standing firm, yet giving room to grow and take flight

So that when the winds blow, the waves crash, the storm gathers

The roots and beauty of the tree dig in deeper, nurture more strongly

Revealing the splendor of the family he embraced for so long

His charge complete as the love that stands the test of time

Made a difference in the strength, depth and understanding of each one...
Oh the stories the ash tree could tell

THE SHOP

To My Hero, My Dad

I can still smell the smell

And hear the sounds

Of sawdust and oil

Of saws and hammers

The haven of my hero

Working intently

To fix something

Or to create something new

With precision and pride

Teaching what it was

To bring to life

A carefully laid plan

Still, I see the old jars and cans

Filled with every size nut and bolt

The chill of the workshop

Yet the warmth and peace of it

The smell of his pipe

The twinkle of his eye

The touch of his hardworking hands

The glow of him warm and bright smile

I can still see him standing there

Beginning the creation, working diligently

Passing wisdom from children to grandchildren--

The character of the man shining through