This time of year
I am grateful for the evergreens
When their fickle deciduous neighbors are
Shedding their colors right and left
Clogging up the drains
All bare bones and branches now
The evergreens at least
Are holding out
Not making any
Hasty decisions
Except the ever always decision
To hang onto what they have
As long as they can
And keep reaching
Towards the sky
© 2013 Julie Clark
Wind and rain
are good for waking a soul
from slumber
No sleep walking
when there is
a shaking, blowing
bracing wind
to contend with
and rain dampening
the leaves
scattered and swished
into patterns
as if a giant mixer
had them in it’s bowl and turned them out
across lawn and street
red plum, orange japanese maple,
yellow birch
Let my soul be awakened and shaken
My life lived
full of patterns and abundant in colors
alert to the possibilities
of each new day
that half closed eyes
may miss.
© 2013 Julie Clark
Fog is besetting us
like a great horde covering the steppes
it has settled in for days
the more sensitive among us
are succumbing to a dark mood
today there is a dripping mist
hardly detected
but all is wet
lawn, house, tree and fence
a sign perhaps
this fell fog will eventually
dissipate and leave us free
from it’s clinging clutches
Fog and Fear
You wonder why fog brings a chill to my spine
there was a time I went for a walk by myself in the fog
I was young and needed some exercise
walking is good exercise
but maybe not the best for a young girl in the fog
from behind came one with evil intent
at his touch I wheeled and rebuked him
in the Mighty Name
he fled back into the mist
but still the dread and chill linger with this fog
The Cure
Begins with a walk with a strong son
no matter the fog with this cheery companion
the next day
escape to the Island
catch a ferry to carry you away
to the great rain shadow
where cloud and fog dissipate
in the afternoon sun
warming your face
the distant shore
clouded and shrouded
but you have blue skies
and gulls screeching
to gladden your heart
the fog itself is not fell
just the lingering memory
that heals when viewed
and shaken out
like a dusty rug
in the sunlight
© 2013 Julie Clark
In my mind I saw
the potter’s wheel spinning
the wet clay without the potter’s hand
flew off the wheel in every direction
I was thinking about marriage
then I saw strong hands
center the clay
shape it into
a useful piece of pottery
what if in marriage like clay
we are molded and kneaded together between
the strong potter’s hands
gently put on the wheel
we let his hands center us
as the wheel spun on
we allowed him to form us
the way our clay would go
shape us into a vessel
extravagantly glazed with his beauty
through the fire we hold together
able to carry
living water
to a thirsty world
© 2013 Julie Clark
In the space between
My need –
My prayer
And His provision
There is an opportunity
For communion
With the Man of Sorrows
The Son of Man
Who had nowhere to call home
On this earth
I can enter the Sacred Garden
And stay awake for a while
With Him
While He bears my pain
And works unseen
His answer to my need
I will be changed
Deeply marked
With the fellowship of
His suffering
© 2013 Julie Clark
Bread for life
I ask for daily
Given more than I need
A neighbor comes
He doesn’t have enough
For his weary travelers
Just arrived
After mid-night
Ok, Ok
Stop your knocking
You are waking us all up
Especially the dogs
Here’s your bread
I don’t share well
But since you are such
A pest
And I want to go back to bed
I will give it to you
What if he didn’t have to ask?
What if I had given it to him
Earlier?
How was I to anticipate
His need of my extra bread?
Maybe if I paid attention
And asked
What am I to do with this extra?
I would have known
He was running on empty.
© 2013 Julie Clark
I must always
Find myself
Lost
In order
For you
To find me
And bring me
Home
On your shoulders
Rejoicing
In other words
It’s when I think
I’m found
Have all the answers
To everyone’s problems
My trouble begins
I lose my way
I still need you
Every day
To find me
And turn my heart
Towards home
© 2013 Julie Clark
Laboring in Omaha
Chilin’ at a closed
Blue Line Café
Music gets louder
As the closer guy
Closes
He’s tired
Must have been here
For hours
Made me the wrong drink
On the house
Hot out
Too hot to go home
To a top floor apartment
With workers
Sanding and painting
Outside the windows
At lunch our friend
Served us cheerfully
Standing on her feet all day
With a two month old baby
Cared for by her mother
All the construction workers
Right out in the hot sun
Fixing the roads
Trying to beat the harsh winter
Always waiting in the curtains
To tear up more road
For next summer’s workers
All these working
By the sweat of their brow
Some making more
Then others
All working for bosses
Who are making more
Then they are
I imagine to the hum
Of the window sander
© 2013 Julie Clark
The Garden Path
The Garden Path
Was obstructed
First by orange plastic fences
And bulldozers
Wait
Next year you’ll see
The Sun Flowers
Then the secret door
Was locked
Don’t give up
Look for another way
It was there
Opening to
Fountain and flowers
This time the path
Blocked by yellow flowers
Push them aside
Let the air fill with
Their fragrance
How do we know
What to do
When our way is blocked?
We walk with the
Gardner
Waiting to be asked
© 2013 Julie Clark
In the Joslyn
Maurice Utrillo’s
Road to Puteaux
Makes me homesick
For Paris
I was there long ago
I never saw that street
The lone, wind lashed
Poplar of
Monet’s Village Street
Beckons me to remember
The Poplar lined streets
Of Central Asia
© 2013 Julie Clark
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