dmdubay

Today’s riddle: What do you call a bear with no ears?

When I worked for the FAA, I transferred to a new office as an Airspace System Inspection Pilot. I was the only female pilot in the organization. As the new kid on the block and as a woman to boot, I needed a defense strategy to maintain my self-confidence and professionalism. I turned to humor. One of the electronics technicians would visit my cubicle every morning and I began telling him jokes: a joke a day. I had a stockpile of them and our morning ritual went on for months. We became good friends. Eventually, though, I ran out of jokes and we continued to have our morning coffee together. He especially liked it when I told self-deprecating “blond jokes.” I didn’t like telling ethnic jokes, but poking fun at myself was okay. I think that was the basis of our friendship. He knew that I could laugh at myself and not take things too seriously. I still try to laugh at my own foibles and when I find I can’t, I know it’s time to step back, smile and say, “Lighten up.”

The answer: B

My Brother Skip’s Birthday Limerick

My brother, he’s really so fine

He works on his farm all the time

Sometimes when at rest

He says, I confess

I’d rather be drinking some wine.

at the Japanese garden

SWANS

Eat, eat, eat, eat, eat,

All day long they eat

Heads down in the mud

Their graceful necks curved down

Interrupted only by intruders

Crowding into their space.

At those times, heads held high

They listen and look and ready themselves to flee

But evening comes and one by one at first

And then in groups

They spread their wings and lift

Their magnificent, snow white bodies aloft

To seek the safety of water.

I love to watch, below me on the flats,

These birds so regal, so dazzlingly white

Take advantage of the abundance of this place

In preparation for their journey

Thousands of miles long.

They know the time is right for gorging

They follow winds and inner calls to do

Exactly things that nature has instilled

Within their hearts.

What is it that attracts me to these birds?

Watching for hours for a glimpse of that first flight?

I watch all day and am rewarded when they fly away

And then I mourn their departure,

I know they do what they perceive is right, at the proper time.

The lessons that they teach are given so unselfishly

They teach me just by doing exactly

What they were born to do.

ANOTHER HAIKU

Time keeps moving on.

I fill my life with doing.

When will I just be?

Doggone Haiku

Sicker than a dog

From where did that saying come?

Don’t know, but I am.

dog tired

Sorry there have been no posts for the last few days. The above haiku says it all.

Here’s another rough draft of a poem.

My Life

I seized a thought to ponder

It was a random thought

Poetry lies waiting

Beneath every thing, always

So does it really matter?

What has import to most?

Does one existence have more meaning

Because it’s richer, smarter—young?

Does the ant bemoan the swallow’s wings

Or the camel a tiger’s stealth?

Foolishly, I long to live the lives of others

I deem more meaningful than mine.

My talents soon I’d trade for drudgery

Of the famous, rich or smart.

When will I learn that my small part is precious, real and true?

When I embrace it fully and live with passion the life I have been given.

Lessons

Lessons everywhere, joys just waiting to be found

Springs of everlasting love

Are hidden in the stones.

I strike the rock with a hard glance

I listen for my name

I smell a rose of gentleness

In a fleeting, hurried bouquet.

Some are learned on pondering,

Some lightning quick and sure

Some unsettle, spin me round

Some comfort me with hope

But they are there surrounding me

I need only open wide

My eyes, my ears, my heart, my soul

To grace awaiting me in lessons pressing in.

colors

Ash Wednesday

The ashes, the ashes, wash over me

They remind me of vanity, self-centeredness, greed

They remind me that Your grace is all that I need.

I need to remember from whence I came

That’s why the ashes come to cleanse me again.

You call me turn back, away from my path

To follow you closely and never look back

On my selfish pursuits, but follow Your way

Which always brings suffering through which I gain

A freedom so light, a freedom from pain.

I need to remember from whence I came,

That’s why the ashes come to cleanse me again.

Sadness engulfs me, but it’s infused with joy

There are lessons I can only learn in this way

I need to learn humbleness down on my knees

I need to learn following without complaint

And know—really know—of your great love for me.

I need to remember from whence I came

That’s why the ashes come to cleanse me again.

Hidden Garden

Morning in my secret garden

Where growing, humming things

Sing songs of praise and worship

To creation’s loving source

I listen and I wonder

Who is this walking here?

Who tends and plants and weeds and loves

What grows behind the walls?

The deep recesses glisten

Rare jewels caught up as dew

The tender shoots, the latent buds

Hide safely in plain sight

I need the eyes of wonder

To realize what joy

Is held in crucibles forged smooth

To receive envisaged life

Surreptitiously he strolls

The master gardener smiles

The hidden, secret garden swells

In response to his sunshine.

I catch a fleeting glimpse

Of his expanding joy and pride

At his handiwork of love

Planted in my heart.

2/12/15

Birthday Tanka

Birthdays are so grand.

Fam-ly, surprises and cake

The tears sting my eyes

While laughter sings from within

Sad that it means I’m now old.

2/13

Limerick by the Sea

A day on the beach is all right.

On chairs in the sun we sit tight.

‘Til waves come so near

We rush off in fear

How nice to have wings for our flight.

2/14

Partings

How sad are the goodbyes!

Even though we know they’re coming

The time together never seems enough.

Yet in the eternal scheme of things

Our comings and our goings

Our meetings and our partings

Are ordered for our benefit.

Time, to those with faith, does not exist.

There is only the eternal now

And the now is sufficient for me.

shorebirds

The Ocean our Mother

The vast, the deep, the womb

Is birthing, feeding and transforming

One into the other

Patiently it sings and cleanses

Mothering the world

It calls us home to once again

Be who we all once were.

Don’t fear the womb, the deep, the vast

It holds us safe and sure.

It is our origin, our life.