"Along the Hudson", oil,
by Takeyce Walter

THE GREAT RIVER

(a sonnet starting with words from an old hymn)

“My life flows on in endless song”, despite

its twists and turns. In sorrow and in bliss

I hear this stream of singing, and the light

of reassurance sets a silent kiss

upon my life. Inside of sorrow there’s

a melody of wisdom that can lift me

up and help me slowly climb the stairs

toward understanding. I can feel the free

and gentle music of all life. It flows

in sadness and success, in hope and fear,

in kindness and despair. It knows

that harmony can quiet and make clear

the mysteries of life. Beneath all things

a peaceful song flows on with me and sings.

WORK WITH LOVE

(A Sonnet on a Busy Morning)

Around our neighborhood, I hear the sounds

of hammers, of equipment being moved, of saws

and shovels. Music of hard work surrounds

our home, and makes me smile because

my neighbors love to do good work. They toil

because they want to make life better than

it was, to get things clean, to turn the soil

so life will grow anew. They have a plan

to polish up their place until it glows

and helps the neighborhood to glow as well.

Their work is made of simple love. It shows

that goodness always will excel

in our good world. These sounds of happiness

I hear are proofs that work with love can bless.

  

   

COMING TO LIGHT

(A Sonnet)

The saying “come to light” describes the world

I know, for this is what I see each day. 

When everything seems shadowy and curled

up in gloom, life always seem to find a way

to move toward light. Our yard comes back at dawn

to meet the morning sun, as though the trees

and flowers know it is their friend. The lawn

leaps up to leave the night and be at ease

again in light. My thoughts, as well, arrive

at light, in time. Unease cannot put out

the glow of peace, and thoughts become alive

beneath the lamp of quietness. Without

the light there is no life. All darkness turns

to light, at last. The candle always burns.     

SPRAYS

(A sonnet while watching the sprinkler)

The garden sprinkler throws the spray across

the flowers with a softness that I love

to see. The spray sets down a silky gloss

among the blooms, a misty wetness from above

them as they sit in sunshine. Then I think

of sprays of words across a page in books

I love. The words like showers splash and sink

into my life, and thoughts start up like brooks

in freshened woods. Then the feel of sprays

of kindness comes to mind – the friendly aid

of clerks, the warmth of passers-by, the praise

received from strangers, just the fresh cascade

of love that’s all around. I feel its spray

of care, a shower on my life all day.

     

SOME KNOCKING

"Sunlit Path in Autumn", oil
by Jamie Williams Grossman

SOME KNOCKING

A Sonnet for a Coming Change

Some knocking could be heard beyond the fence,

a sound like Autumn wishing to come in.

I wondered why the knocking seemed intense

but also soft, like kisses on the chin.

I soon began to hear some quiet sounds

outside the door of our small house, and saw

September standing there. We strolled the grounds

and met good Summer waiting to withdraw,

and talked of cooler mornings coming, and

the golden leaves, and surely snow before

too long. And then September waved its hand

to Autumn as sweet August locked its door.

Soon I heard a softer knock. A butterfly

had come to wish me well and say goodbye.    

EVENING ALL DAY

"Evening Sun", oil, by Delilah Smith

     Cia and I usually have tranquil, quiet evenings, mostly at home, and it sometimes occurs to me that our  days are actually just like these kindhearted evenings. It’s interesting that the word “evening” comes from the word “even”, which suggests, not the coming of night, but simply smoothness and steadiness, as in “The road ran evenly across the landscape.” Maybe all our days, without our realizing it, actually run evenly along, going where they must in a level and laid-back way. Maybe we just don’t notice the evenness of our days as clearly as we see the easygoing mellowness of our evenings. Perhaps we should look for the relaxed “evening” of each hour in the same way that we look forward to the quiet of our evenings at home. Maybe we can learn to see the “evening” – the smoothing out and leveling of everything – in each daytime moment.