Hopes for 2012

Photo by Rita Bourland © 2011

Hopes for 2012  

I carry my hopes and dreams like a cloak sheltering me from the harshest wind.  They bring light on a dark, wintry day; filling my heart with possibility.  As a new year looms on the horizon, those same hopes and dreams demand more attention, take firmer shape, shimmer before my eyes saying, ‘I’m still here, are you ready yet?’ 

I get a bit scattered when it comes to my creative and ideological desires.  Pinning down the direction I want to take can be like trying to catch a firefly on a warm summer night; flickering just out of reach.  The same hopes and dreams that fill me with possibility can bear down like the burden of unfinished business, turning my inner commentary into an unhealthy monologue on my lack of resolve.    

But with age and a bit of wisdom I have learned a few things about hopes and dreams and inner monologues.  They don’t mix well.  Turning off one to accomplish the other is the only way to move forward.   

Lest this turn into a bunch of psychobabble, I will just say that I have learned to accept my uniqueness.  I’m doing the best I can in this crazy world. 

So, in 2012, I plan to continue hoping and dreaming, playing and praying, loving and living, contemplating and creating, doubting some, but mostly being the best version of myself I can be and loving myself all the better for it.

A Gem of a Quote

mikiedaniel.wordpress.com

 

A Gem of a Quote

In the movie Midnight in Paris the character of Ernest Hemingway speaks the following line when counseling a budding novelist:  

“No subject is terrible if the story is true and if the prose is clean and honest and if it affirms courage and grace under pressure.”  

This is not an actual quote by Hemingway but an idealized version of the kind of language he might have used.  As I watched the movie (for the second time) last night, I was struck by the quote and took the time to write it down.  I considered the idea of speaking with courage and truth, using clean and honest prose and doing it with grace even when outside or internal pressures exist.  There seemed to be much to take away from this one compact sentence; ideas that might be useful to writers but also might benefit all of us in our day to day interpersonal relationships.   Keeping things clean and honest, speaking the truth to those we love, acting courageously when faced with the darkness in humanity and summoning our inner grace to move through our days. 

I love being handed a gem of a quote such as this.  It creates a pause in my day to consider words spoken by another, words that speak a profound truth to me, a truth I can carry into the New Year.  Maybe it speaks a truth to you as well.

Poem: A Mall-less Christmas

 A Mall-less Christmas

It’s a mall-less Christmas for me,

No muzak or fake Christmas tree,

No garish bright lights

Or elves in red tights,

No two for one deals

Or boots with high heels,

No Santa to greet

With photo complete,

Or children in tears

Being ushered through Sears,

Not one impulse buy

Or flashing green tie,

No fluffy pink slippers

Or fancy egg whippers,

Yet the gifts that sit ‘neath the tree,

Were purchased by little ol’ me,

With just a few clicks of my mouse,

The shopping was done from my house,

So now I have time to sip tea,

And munch on some crackers and brie,

I’ll listen to CDs and sing right along,

Filled with the hope of each Christmas song,

It’s a mall-less Christmas for me.

Thanks, Google, for setting me free.

I actually like to support a few independent stores in town but the internet has also been a wonderful tool for shopping.  I haven’t missed the mall a bit. 

Poem: I Promise They'll Hear

Card and Poem - Rita Bourland

Poem: I Love Christmas Cards

 I Love Christmas Cards

I love Christmas cards,

Always have,

Always will,

When I was a child

My mother wrote stacks and stacks

Of cards,

Who did she send them to I wondered?

How did she know so many people?

She carefully wrote the addresses,

Signed each card with a personal note,

Affixed the stamps,

Licked the envelopes,

Then mailed the stack two weeks before

Christmas,

And now I do the same,

It is a duty, a compulsion,

A necessary part of the season,

As much as carols, trees, cookies and gifts,

It tells me I am connected

To family and friends,

That meaningful relationships exist,

That time and distant do not

Define love or friendship,

A card is a small thing

Yet it looms large in my life,

Always has,

Always will.

Charming from Cover to Cover - Columbus Independent Children's Bookstore

Charming from Cover to Cover 

Nestled in the heart of Columbus in an area called Clintonville, and sandwiched between a bank and Jiffy Lube is one of the city’s great treasures - an independent bookstore for children called Cover to Cover.  Stepping through the front door is like entering a candy store.  There is the feeling of wanting to devour the contents; swallowing them up over many hours of delicious reading.    You can see all the way to the back of the store in one glance which gives the sense that consuming this considerable feast is quite feasible.  

As your eyes regain focus and your happy heart calms a bit, you might notice an employee such as Beth standing by ready to help you in your search for the perfect reading treat.  Maybe you want a Caldecott award winning book or maybe you want a selection of poetry, or possibly a book about whales.  Beth knows every book in the shop and can steer you to the perfect selection.  

But wait, my eyes have wandered to a new distraction.  Someone has written all over the walls with black markers.   On closer inspection, I realize the walls are covered with autographs.  Think of a children’s author you love and their autograph is certainly inscribed on the wall, often accompanied by a delightful illustration. 

 On the day I visited the store, I had the great fortune of running into another Columbus treasure, Mimi Brodsky Chenfeld.  When asked how she would like me to describe her, she said, “educator, author and elderly hippie”.  This charismatic, engaging woman has written several books including Celebrating Young Children and their Teachers.  It seemed fitting to find her in Cover to Cover buying her grandchildren a few books for the holidays.   She is happily internet avoidant; always preferring interactions with ‘real people’.   

  

Shael Brachman, Mimi Brodsky Chenfeld, Rita Bourland

Married owners, Randy King and Sally Oddi are all about the connections with real people.  They’ve been at it for over 30 years and have figured out the formula for running a successful independent bookstore in an age of internet absorption.  By providing a real versus virtual experience they have found and retained legions of fans still longing for the same thing. 

So stop by Columbus and get lost for a few hours in Cover to Cover.  Maybe come by on a Tuesday or Saturday morning for story hour or drop by when an author is on tour.  Or maybe just stop in to embrace this charming place, inhaling the smell of books, and traveling for a few moments into a world where children thrive and a book can take you to places you never imagined.  It’s better than anything you could find in a candy store. 

Cover to Cover

3560 N. High Street

Columbus, OH 43214

(614) 263-1624

Poem: Crosses to Bear

 Crosses to Bear

People have crosses to bear,

Weighty,

Unwieldy,

Onerous,

 Crosses,

Crushing spirits,

Squashing dreams,

Dashing hopes,

Crosses,

Invisible burdens,

So hard to share

Except through prayer,

An outreached hand,

A listening ear,

A hug, a tear,

Thoughts sincere,

Crosses

Are there,

Look closely

At others

And care,

Then share

The crosses

They quietly bear.

Poem: Saying it All

Thanksgiving 2011 © Rita Bourland

 

Saying it All

Defining family

Is like defining love,

No words can

Adequately express

The depth of feeling,

Essence of remembrance,

Taste of happiness,

Or warmth of affection,

Yet somehow we know

The very words

We can’t explain

End up

Saying it all.

Poem: Giving Thanks

 

Photo by Rita © Vermont 2009

Giving Thanks

The earth grows so cold

As winter draws near,

The flowers and plants will soon disappear,

The days are too short,

The sun hides from sight,

And shadows turn quickly to darkness and night,

But thankfulness comes

In the midst of these hours,

I dream of rebirth and precious spring flowers,

I dream of the life

So precious and true,

The life that God’s given to me and to you,

I thank God for you,

 I thank God for me,

And thank Him for all of the goodness I see.

A rerun of my Thanksgiving poem.  Happy Thanksgiving to everyone.

Poetic Book Review: You Remind Me of Me

Lost in the Pages

I’ve been lost the past few days,

Buried in the pages of a book,

Immersed in a tale

Of choices made,

A young mother

Sent to a home to birth her babe,

Gives it up for adoption,

Later bearing another,

But always wondering about the other,

Where might he be?

Who might he be?

The sons later meet,

It’s hardly discreet,

Mayhem ensues,

Lives get screwed,

Damage is done,

Kidnap, remorse, prison, release,

But nothing can fix

The loss that began

Back when the children were young,

A young mother’s choices,

Not good enough

For the two that she bore,

One she gave up,

The other she kept,

What if, what if, what if?

A poetic book review. 

You Remind Me of Me by Don Chaon.

Turkey on the Lam Limerick

 Turkey on the Lam Limerick

Tom Turkey was in great dismay,

He knew it was almost ‘that’ day,

He hopped on a plane

And flew off to Spain,

He packed for an extra long stay,

Plus the ticket he bought was one-way.

Poem: Remembrance

Vermont 2009 ©  Rita Bourland

Remembrance 

I sat at the river’s edge

 Watching water cascade

Over rocks

And remembered you,

The ebb and flow of you,

Sometimes rippling

Around obstacles

With unfettered abandon,

Sometimes caught in an eddy,

Or snagged by

Tangled

 Roots and twigs,

Pushing free

With uncommon strength

Like a giant oak

Flexing its branches,

Spreading a canopy over

Dangerous waters,

Protecting others

From sudden rapids,

I sat at the river’s edge

And remembered you,

The beautiful, profound

Ebb and flow of you,

And knew you

 Lived in a place like this,

Where the reflection

Of truth could be captured

In the movement of water.

Poem: A Taste that Lingers

 

A Taste That Lingers 

I love fall,

the crisp, windy, 

color

kaleidoscope of it,

the canvas of painted trees,

the smell of air

so sweet

you might pause

mid-step

to savor it like

a cup of exotic tea,

or a sip of

fine wine

made from grapes

ripened in the chill air

on a day just like

this day,

or maybe

it's the crunch of leaves

that conjures up thoughts of a

crackling fire

built in the middle of a field,

with children gathered 'round,

and marshmallows roasted

to softened perfection,

or maybe

it's the crisp apple

just picked from a tree

laden with fruit

fruit that tastes like fall,

a taste that lingers

long after the last bite,

and stays in your memory

long past your youth,

a taste that brings you back

to the days of fall,

when all was good,

 and all was right with the world,

back to now,

 when all is possible,

and life is clear and perfect and crisp

with possibility.


Photo by Rita Bourland © 2010

Poem: Someone Needs to Know

 Someone Needs to Know

A trusted mentor

Takes a hand,

Says come with me

My dear, young friend,

Let’s take a walk,

Share secrets,

You and me,

No one needs to know,

Time goes by,

More secrets told,

Lies take hold,

The trap is set,

The young boy snared

By ill intent,

His mentor in control,

No one needs to know,

Damage done to

Body,

Soul,

Forevermore,

Yet secrets told

Cannot unfold

To those they swore

Should never know,
 

The shame’s so very cold,

Yet someone needs to know,

Be still young boy,

You’ve done no wrong,

Your mentor

Now must stand alone,

He’ll pay the price forevermore

For what he’s done

To you,

Who only

Wished to find a trusted friend.

Poem: Out of the Blue

photo by Rita Bourland © 2011

Out of the Blue

A blue ribbon day delivered to you,

A pumpkin in blue – can it be true?

As true as the grass moistened with dew,

Or roses and rainbows

To name just a few,

Once in a blue moon comes something so true,

Appearing to you in visions of blue,

Vibrantly hued; serenely imbued,

Touching your soul; calming your mood,

Out of the blue you feel something new,

Maybe a different version of you,

No sadness or heartache; nothing to rue,

Just clear skies above - shimmering blue,

It’s a gift on this day; a gift just for you,

If a pumpkin is blue

Then what other things might be true?

The Glass Garden - Photo Tour

   
Franklin Park Conservatory in Columbus, Ohio is currently hosting an exhibit called Hungry Planet: Local Food – Global View.  As part of the larger exhibit, there is an installation of glass art in the Courtyard.  The glass fruits and vegetables were created by Michael Cohn and Molly Stone of Cohn-Stone Studios in Richmond, CA.  I toured the conservatory yesterday and was transported by the exquisite beauty of the artists’ creations.  Come join me for a walk through the garden.

The Glass Garden 

Come see the bounty of the earth

Nestled in the garden,

Glistening in the sun,

Catching golden rays,

Drops of rain,

Morning dew,

Casting light,

 Creating illusions so grand,

So evocative

Of rich harvests

We’ve known,

So luscious to taste,

Dripping with the juice of the land,

A sumptuous feast

In artist’s hues,

Colors truer than true,

Tempting you

To taste, touch, smell,

This bountiful crop,

But the eye has been fooled

By this garden of glass,

Stirred by

The richness

Of the crop

That feeds the body,

Yet the soul has been fed

By this gift of art,

This glistening garden of glass.

 I would love to frame one of these photos. Do you have a favorite?

Glass Garden Photos © 2011 - Rita Bourland