Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Rabbits in My Garden Pot

May 24, 2026

Pretty soon I (hope to?/) might have…rabbits in my garden pot.

Today, I happened to look out on the patio deck through the sliding glass doors, and saw a rabbit in one of my large garden pots, about an 18-inch diameter one, and perhaps just as tall. It was furiously digging in the dirt, making a medium-size depression. It came and went a few times, flicking dirt out over the rim of the pot. I could not understand what it was doing, and thought it might be digging for roots.

So I asked about the rabbit’s behavior on a gardening forum, and I have been learning so much!

Most likely, the rabbit is a female making a nest for little rabbits to come! Those of you, who unlike me, grew up in a less urban environment, are saying, “Duh!” But anyway, there’s no shelter over this garden pot. Even so, the “experts” are telling me that the mother rabbit will line the depression with her own fur and/or grass clippings soon before the bunnies are about to arrive.

Just about nothing is more entertaining to me than observing animals in action. I hope to keep this post updated as things progress. I’m not sure, though, how to get the best photos without disturbing the mother or babies. At the very least, I’ll try to keep readers posted, in words, about the outcome.

Rabbit in pot, and digging:

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How is Your Weather?

May 16, 2026

“How is your weather?”
We often say.
What if we meant,
“How is your day?”

What if we meant,
“How do you feel?
Tell me your story;
Tell me what’s real.”

“Tell me the longing
Deep in your heart,
Your joys and your sorrows —
That would be a good start.”

Longing for sunshine
On a dark, cloudy day?
Longing for peace –
Putting turmoil at bay?

Deep in our hearts,
Only God can fulfill
Our need for His love —
Let Him make your heart still.

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There Is Nothing …

May 15, 2026

In a recent Sunday homily, the priest stated, “There is nothing you can do to make God love you less.” Perhaps superfluously, I might restate what he said like this: “There is nothing [bad] you can do to make God love you less, [and there’s nothing good you can do to make Him love you more.]

The priest went on to say something like, “It is we who turn from God, not He from us. We’re afraid to come to Him after we’ve sinned, but He’s waiting for us with open arms. He wants us back.”

What is our response to such a love? It might be fear, grateful acceptance, or something else. Fear, because that kind of love might demand something of us that we’re not willing to give — perhaps letting go of our anger, unforgiveness, blaming others, bad habits, etc. Or, in realizing the immensity of that kind of love that no human can give us, an overwhelming gratitude that responds by giving to and serving others — and yes, letting go.

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I Cannot Remember

May 13, 2026

[This poem was prompted by a bit of memory loss
as I get older, but also how some memories stay
longer than others.]

I cannot remember you name right now,
But occasionally, I do.
Your face seems more important somehow,
And that’s what stays in my view.

I cannot recall the time that we met,
Nor the place that we first were together.
However, it’s undoubtedly true,
That meeting, our connection’s forever.

I cannot recall some places I’ve been,
Or only but dimly in visions.
But somehow they stay so deep in my soul,
As if a location in heaven.

I don’t remember what brought me here,
Nor why I am in this location,
But wherever I am, God only knows,
It’s part of my destined vocation.

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Memories

April 22, 2026

[I don’t especially like this poem I wrote, but I ran it by
some “friendly critics,” and they liked it, so here it is.]

Memories keep coming back —
My sins and failures of the past,
But, thankfully, the Lord was there —
To keep accusing — the Devil won’t dare.

Memories of friends that died,
Others, that I left behind —
Physic’ly, or in my mind.
Sometimes, perhaps, I was not kind.

Others left me at different times —
I didn’t know with my small mind
The reasons that would cause these rifts —
Perhaps they were a painful gift.

So many awkward, embarrassing scenes —
I almost have them in my dreams.
Still, better just to have a laugh
Than dwell upon a jumbled past.

Well, what’s a life without some pain?
Without it, some say, there is no gain.
And with a painful lesson learned
The joy that’s birthed is fully earned.

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Could You Be a Farmer?

April 16, 2026

Could you be a farmer? 
And leave the city, all secure,
Venture where it all depends
On God — and not on you?

But your hard work,
You’d never shirk,
If you were not to starve.

With breaking backs
Or robot machines,
You’d till the soil
By any means

To strain out, or  
If the soil was rich —
Abundant food
That modern souls

Have not a clue —
The labor that
Our ancestors knew.

With sweating brows
And muscles that ached
From dawn to dusk,
For survival’s sake.

But surely there were
Good times, too.

The love of God,
The love of friends.
Quiet evenings,
As winter descends.

I’ve only read of farms in books,
The tales of homesteads,
Of babbling brooks —

Of Little Houses on the Prairie,
Of wild animals to be wary,
Of building cabins with bare hands,
Of bravely living off the land.

It’s a dream that might never be —
Still, younger folk can start, bravely.
Alas, old me, not strong enough —
Those people were made of sterner stuff.

I’ll keep on dreaming, and till my little plot.
Little dreams, too, can mean a lot.

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Poems

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Neither Do I Condemn You

March 23, 2026

As I write this, I’m 71. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the Bible verse below, but today it finally sunk in, as if Jesus were speaking to me.

Jesus said to the woman caught in adultery: ‘“… Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again.”’ (John 8:10-12)

If Jesus does not condemn the woman, then neither should I condemn myself for my sins or failings, but in gratitude, go on to live for Him and be holy with the help of His grace.

“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!” (Zechariah 9:9a)

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Red Robin Bobbing

March 12, 2026

They’re finally here, the robins dear —
They’ve hidden all the winter.
But now they hop across the grass
Like frogs, but all aflitter.

I only seem to see the male,
With red breast so distinctive.
His yellow beak, next to his cheek
Means spring is not a fiction.

There’s something bright, a great delight
When ‘cross the lawn he’s bobbing.
He never fears, he brings good cheer —
With joy my heart is throbbing.

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Winter Creatures

February 8, 2026

All day long, the snow fell,
Softly, quietly; you couldn’t hear —
When your eyes were closed.

All the next day, we shoveled;
The mail was undelivered.
Could we hope for it the next day?
Or the next?

Yes, after dark the mail truck came,
One day, or two; some hours late,
Bringing news, and things to read;
The carrier freezing in his truck.

(But I’m hoping not –.
Do they wear electric suits,
Like astronomers, watching distant stars?}

I trudged out to get the mail,
And sorting it, found it not all ours.
Four pieces each, for neighbors next –
Should I venture out to deliver the rest?

Perhaps foolishly — yes, I went.
And on the way, looked to my left.
Two deer stood silently, watching me.
In the silence, dark, and cold,
We watched each other, warily.

Some days we see the animal tracks,
And even trails, worn in the snow.
Squirrels, birds, and chipmunks, too —
Deer and rabbits have passed through.

And today, with sun on snow,
A flash of red in bush does show.
A cardinal has come to eat
Some seeds I set out for a treat.

A rabbit came to our porch, too.
He tried some parsley, grass –
But few, the blades that he had picked to chew.

So blessed we are, with all these creatures,
God, through nature, a constant teacher.

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Paper Snowflakes

January 31, 2026

Today, I’d like to ruminate on the power of good memories, at least one, from my childhood.

I will start in the present time. Yesterday, with two of my grandchildren, we made paper snowflakes. It was fun not only for me to show them how, but to watch their eager attempts to create their own. One is 5 and 1/2, the other is 3 3/4 years old. I had to help with some aspects, but they were able to use (safety) scissors fairly well. The older grandchild morphed into making confetti, which further on turned into a wild throwing of paper, and when cleaning up (sweeping), it got wilder. They started adding jackets, socks, boots, mittens, and toys to the paper piles. [Not sure I handled that well, but they had fun.] The younger grandchild was a lot better with scissors than I expected. I made some snowflakes, too, and we taped them on the wall.

None of this would have happened unless someone had showed me how to make snowflakes. In this case, it was my older brother. After perhaps 63 years, I still remember that he was the one who showed me how. Later in life, I often made paper snowflakes in winter, even though much of my life has been lived in the San Francisco Bay area, where there rarely is snow. But they’ve often provided much pleasure and joy.

There are a few lessons that I think are valid to draw from this:

One, children remember time spent with them, doing something together. I suppose these can be positive or negative things.

Two, we can influence children for good or evil, positive or negative.

Three, spending time with children in a positive way is more important than buying them things. Playing with them and interacting, praising them for any positive accomplishment, can be a great encouragement to them. (Some toys that they can interact with creatively on their own, are very useful, though. In general, I avoid most battery operated toys.)

Four, time spent teaching something positive is never a waste.

So, let them know you’re interested in their life, what they are doing, and encourage the good things. Sometime, even when you’re tired or exhausted with the children in your life, make the effort to interact. [But, I would add, if exhaustion is a pattern, get helpers and find creative ways to overcome that.] This can apply to other relationships. It is well worth it.

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