Wrinkles

See?
These are my wrinkles.
They may be the evidence
that I’ve been here a while
trying to get it right –
laughing,
crying,
standing in wind
and rain
and streaming sun,
squinting to see you clearly.
Then again,
they may be the neat creases
of Time
as it makes me,
folded,
formed
and maybe
(just maybe)
finally finished.
Or
they may be
the natural seams
that come
as I condense
and cure
to the
essence
of myself.

Heather Burton
March 14, 2011

God Blind

Light from origin
Reflected on snow
Overpowers
Inuit hunters

Slitted goggles
Allow narrow sight
Shielding from snow-blind

In the reverse
I see these three

I.
“I have awakened,” he asserts,
“To the hypocrisy of my belief.”
(“Surely all others believe blindly, too,
Plodding overpowered by their own dull will
To remain unseeing.”)
I watch as his eyes narrow,
Lashes sealing out
The searing brightness of a gifted life,
A gushing stream of advantages, privileges, chances.

II.
“It is to suffer,” he assures,
“And God is absent in my suffering,
Therefore, he never was
And never gave in my ease.”
Looking away, twisting from
The hand I extend,
From the chorus of cries for his pain,
From the Balm, unopened.
“My blinders are off,” he speaks.

III.
“If you tell me God loves me,” she taps, edgy,
“I won’t believe it.”
Hanging heart, clouds of opaque, determined tears,
She falls to emerald grass
Nodding heads of jewelled delight
Bordering her bitter garden.
Trees—sentinels–shimmer, beckoning her, Look up!
Infinite space,
azure in this moment of pure breeze,
yet
“There is no sign,” she concludes.

…………………………………………………………………….

Could it be,
I open, then close, to wonder,
Pain, doubt, sorrow, unknowing
Goggle ourselves and narrow vision
Against the Brilliance
That all things denote?

And shunning Light,
We choose
Unseeing.

By Heather Burton
August 20, 2009

Small and Simple Souls

My friend Seth Smith has a number of things going for him, but two that stand out to me are his skill at creating Flash movies and his gift for gathering and conveying inspiring messages.

I asked him once how much he would charge to build a great mini-movie on a topic dear to my heart. He said, basically, that he would love to do it if he weren’t so busy and that he couldn’t charge. This is a life’s work, not a job.

I find his recent project a timely reminder that great souls, who do seem to consistently start out small and simple, are needed in all eras of time.

Great work, Seth, and thank you.

Small and Simple Souls
(Or paste into your browser: http://sethadamsmith.com/2010/06/07/small-and-simple-souls/)

Gracie

A whisper in a letter, there you were:

Five years lived, traded among homes a dozen times over,

Parched for family love.

I mothered you instantly, tears and longing –

You could be ours.

Your agents as inquisitors,

You the mishap-ly unclaimed prize,

I eager to prove me yours,

Trying to make us happen.

Meanwhile, photos distant from your watermelon smile,

Poring over your chocolate tresses and searching eyes,

I tracked digitally for the news of your life:

Mom, user. Half-sister, crashed. Cousin, motherless. Grandma, distraught.

Headlines for a fifty-year old, not child.

Oh, your smile!

The news was not news, and unwanted –

You needed peace now, home instantly, no more ifs.

And I answered, late for the call

To be sanctuary.

Oh, Gracie –

I had you in wedding lace, adored,

Grown, belonging, healed and whole,

A rose.

Would that…would that…

Would that I could wrap around you arms –

God’s, family, mine.

I pray

Sweet Grace

For your

Elsewhere haven.

The Consolation of [Intelligent] Curiosity

True confessions time, friends. I keep buying books even though I haven’t read the ones I already have. My favourite room of our house is our library cum schoolroom cum music room — and it is lined with books I would love to read and can’t/haven’t just yet.

When I came across the following quote, I felt sheepish:

“Bibliomania, or the collecting of an enormous heap of books without intelligent curiosity, has, since libraries existed, infected weak minds, who imagine that they themselves acquire knowledge when they keep it on their shelves.” – Isaac D’Israeli

Then, I started thinking about “intelligent curiosity,” and took heart. I can’t judge how “intelligent” my curiosity is, but I know the curiosity exists; it’s that irrepressible feeling that comes when I spy a used bookstore, or browse the stacks at the library, or wander around Chapters, a big bookstore near where I live.

I don’t currently spend a lot of money on books — it feels like we’ve gathered a core collection of books that is rich and varied with classics and exciting possibilities. The book shopping I do now is for gems, oddities, and rare delights – some of which are duplicates so I can help my kids be bibliomaniacs, too. (Like the two volume antique edition of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy I found at the Bargain Barn in Cardston on Friday. I think they charged me a dollar for it.  )

I’d love to hear your stories about exciting book shopping. What’s the best find you’ve made lately?

Thanks for reading,

Heather

Seeing You From My Kitchen Sink

I live at the edge of nowhere.

Granted, it is — to me — an exquisitely beautiful nowhere:  a log home perched above a creek in the middle of a wide field at the edge of Rocky Mountain foothills. From June till September, I can’t take a step without meeting a wildflower. In wintertime, wind, snow, cloud, and sky stage epic productions called “weather.”

Typically, I spend an hour or two (or more) a day looking out from my kitchen sink. There’s a sandbox, then garden boxes; pasture, then horse corrals; our llamas lounging on the side of a hill coiffed with wind-teased poplars. And, there’s you.

Not meaning to invade your privacy, I think about you–your life, your home, your view from your kitchen sink–your ideas, thinking, joys, hurts, hopes, dreams, wishes. Who inhabits your home, I wonder? What’s hard for you? What would it be like to be in your slippers or bare feet or shoes, standing at your kitchen sink?

Honestly, I don’t resent the kitchen sink spot; it’s actually one of my favourite places for reflection and imagination. You make it all the more meaningful and pleasant. Please know that you are a highlight of my day.

This blog is really my envisioning you “out loud” — of comparing my inner and outer life with yours. It will be a lot like having conversations with an imaginary friend.

Can you imagine my delight if you chose to answer back?

Here’s hoping I can see you a little clearer and know you better, blogging not too far from my kitchen sink.

Heather