And then the day comes,
The house clean, the list double-checked,
And now, surrender.

******

Trust the skill of the surgeon.

Trust my body
To begin the repair
I’m told starts the very moment
Of the wounding.

Cells, do your work.
Stitch together
All the parts
That have been
Severed.

Take the tiny fragments,
The eroded bits,
Worn out
Detritus.

Send them down
The river of 
‘Thank you for your service’
Into the ocean of
‘Well-done, no regrets.’

Shiny new parts,
New connections.

Some old parts
Have been practicing
To join the new —
Strengthening,
Readying

The new
With the old
Join 

To make me
Whole
Again

Summer solstice, 
Full moon, hot sun, fierce wind,
Shattered glass. Look up.

***

Lift your eyes now and
Look up from the place where you are.

Words from the LORD to Abram, 
“Look up from the place where you are.”

This place holds death and grief,
Matted grass poisoned by limited beliefs.

Even now the scarlet poppies bloom,
Rising up out of the hidden grasses

The mystery of life revealed,
Their glory triumphant in full sun

Grief surrounds me.

Some of it is mine.
Some lies in the community around me.
Some lies just beyond me,
In the fractured relationships not yet healed,
Still, part of me.

I was raised in grief,
Lost to the loss that defined me.

And now,

In this time between the soft green of spring
And the harsh heat of summer,
In the fullness of the moon’s ebb and flow,
In the fierceness of Spirit’s breath
And the shattering of what was once a solid surface
For my musing.

What must I see
As I lift my eyes
To the horizon?

Slept well, woke rested.
After weeks of restless grief-sleep,
Eyes open, heart smiles.

*****

Art heals.
So they say.
An afternoon in the sun,
At the patio table doing art.

And if he were still alive,
My dog would be lying
On the flagstone
Beside me,
Always beside me,
Lifting his head now and then
To look at me,
Sniff the air,
Watch the birds
Swooping in to land
On the nearby feeders,
Shifting his hips
Now and then.
If I say his name,
Rising to bring his head
To my lap,
Waiting for my pets,
Insisting I continue,
Lifting my hand when I stop.

Is it art that heals?
Or the felt presence
Of an old friend?
Or the birds?

Or an afternoon in the sun
With all three?

Who can say.

What I know
Is I slept well
And woke rested.

After the shock passed,
I miss the presence of you,
Always at my side.

*****

Your face turned up to mine,
Your eyes following me.

You knew my patterns,
Recognized my Zoom call voice,
Saw me getting ready to leave,
Stood waiting to see.

Would I take your leash
From it’s hook
On the wall?

Then prancing ensued
Your front paws danced
Their way to the car.

In our younger days
We walked the trails 
Of Jefferson County.
Every week, a new adventure.

I carried the requisite supplies
For both of us
And packed out your waste,
Triple-bagged, of course.

I learned all the tricks,
Had all the fancy hydration cups.
Yummy snacks, booties for sharp stones,
Extra water. Extra love.

Sometimes you wore a doggie pack.
Carried your own water.
Packed out your own waste.
Less smelly for me that way.

You were a sneaky one.
Fascinated by poop 
Left behind by other critters,
You knew I disapproved,
So you’d “fall behind,”
Thinking I might not look back
And see you grab the forbidden object
In your mouth.
“Leave it,” I’d say sternly.
Head down, you’d stand,
Pretending not to hear.
But If I repeated the command
you’d drop the yucky thing
And bounce back in front of me,
Happy to continue up the trail ahead.

You had three beds upstairs
And two downstairs.
Two heating pads,
One for each floor.
And as you aged,
Stairs for getting up on the bed.
You were never one for toys,
Though you did love that crazy lobster.
Only when I was on the phone, of course,
Because it made such a squawking sound. 
And lots of antlers to chew on. 
You had strong jaws
And the impulse to chew.

I took care of you.
Adored you. 
Spent every day and night with you.
You never left my side.
Slept on my bed.

You were my soul companion. 
And my soul misses you.