Commonplace Death

When I drove home from work yesterday I noticed the flag was flying at half-staff again. I knew then there’d been another shooting. When I got home I learned two students had been shot and killed at a school in New Mexico. The story of the shooting came at the end of the news program. Death by gunfire at a school is now so commonplace it’s not considered top news anymore.

The NRA stinks.

And now a poem –

Half-Staff Flag

The flag is at half-staff again
or still.
I can’t remember the last time
I saw it waving from the top
of the pole.
Days? Weeks? Months? Years?
Someday it will rise again,
someday when we put our fears
to rest, and begin
to trust each other once more,
put down our weapons of words
and steel, and pour healing
love into our nation’s wounds.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell, from The Brush of Angel Wings

half-mast flag

T’was Two Weeks Afore Christmas

T’was two weeks afore Christmas and all through Eff Bee
not a creature was stirring – not a she, he, or me
We were prostrate and spent from the holiday bustle
not a twitch could be seen from the teeniest muscle…

Karen Molenaar Terrell's avatarAdventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist

T’was Two Weeks Afore Christmas

T’was two weeks afore Christmas and all through Eff Bee
not a creature was stirring – not a she, he, or me
We were prostrate and spent from the holiday bustle
not a twitch could be seen from the teeniest muscle.

We lay all unblinking in our respective beds
while visions of gift-wrapping swirled through our heads
And clad in our jammies and our way cool madcaps
we had the vague hopeful hope our bodies would take naps.

Holiday jangles and jingles pinged through our brains –
Presley, Crosby, and Mathis taking us down memory lanes –
and would we remember every member to be gifted?
We mentally went through our lists, hoping none were omitted.

There were homes to be decorated and cards to be sent,
parties, caroling, and cookie-making, and we hadn’t made a dent.
But with a collective sigh we remembered there…

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T’was the evening on Friday…

Here are some quick poetic doodles inspired by the latest machinations of the GOP –

T’was the evening on Friday when down Senate’s floor
writhed a greedy-pants tax bill to take from the poor
The middle-class were tucked all quiet in their berths
while the GOP sycophants transformed them to serfs.

On debt! On corporate tax cuts! On breaks for the rich!
Health care insurance just got thrown in the ditch.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

During the night the middle-class
transformed into serfs in a fiefdom.
It was decreed by law passed
that we’re slaves ’til we die
while the richiest rich eat all of the ripe plums.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

While the rich get their face lifts
and tummies tucked, too,
the poor work an extra shift,
for basic health care for Baby Sue .
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

 

 

Address Book at Christmas

Flipping through my address book – 
getting my Christmas cards ready to send – 
your name pops out, and it gives me a jolt.
You died last month, but your name
lives on in black ink on a lined page
in my address book. And I want to send
you something – but you’re not there
to receive your mail. 
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Something Has Changed Inside of Me

Grey, dark, cold – rain pounding
on the streets. Dreariest of dreary
days. I feel myself going under –
filled with worries and fears.
This year has been a rough one –
death has danced around me
and mine, dishonesty seems
in power, grasping greed weaves
its way through our world,
wanting more, wanting ours.

I get in my car for the drive home.
And Mindy Jostyn’s music flowers –
blooms in my auto’s space –
she’s singing of kindness and love
and a new day dawning. And I
stop. I shift. My thoughts rise above
the dark and grey and I smile. I
will stop and see Dad on my way
home and it won’t be a chore –
I’m grateful he’s still here – I’ll
hold his hand and kiss his forehead
and tell him I love him once more.

He asks me if he’s coming home
with me. I tell him his home is here.
He says whenever he tries to get
invited to someone’s home, they
tell him he’s already there.
He grins and tells me he’s lucky
to have me. I tell him I love him
and blow him a kiss.

And back in the car again. The day
is still grey, and the rain still pours,
but I don’t see gloom. I don’t see drear.
Something has shifted in me and I soar
over the road and over the clouds.
Nothing has changed at all outwardly
but something has changed inside of me.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Bow Sunrise

Sunrise on the way to work. October 2, 2017. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.

“Reason for Unsubscribing”

There were 150 messages waiting for me in my inbox when I woke up – most of them from organizations wanting me to sign things or send money. I can’t live like this…

I do not want you in my email inbox
I do not like your picture that shocks
I can’t keep up with the messages I find
and all the petitions I’m asked to sign,

You automatically signed me up
for monthly donations to fill your cup
and I had to work to make it one-time
– now I find I don’t want to give you a dime.

So don’t ask me for money –
I’ll give when I want
to the causes I choose.
Sorry – felt I had to be blunt.
– Karen the Curmudgeon

Intrusions in a Holy Space

I’m thinking I’m not the only one to experience the craziness that seems to foist itself on us just when we’re going through the most intense and powerful experiences of life.  I’m guessing a lot of you have experienced this, too – people choosing to intrude on your time and space just when your whole being is focused on something life-changing and powerful . And – thinking back on the times when this has happened to me – it occurs to me that the craziness couldn’t have come at a better time for me, actually – when would I have been better fit to deal with it? The birth of my sons and the passing of my mother put everything else in clear perspective: This matters; That doesn’t.

If you’ve ever seen The Waitress (that wonderful movie about the abused and pregnant waitress who discovers her strength in the birth of her daughter), you’ve see an example of craziness trying to intrude on the sacred. The scene that stands out to me in this movie is the scene where she confronts her abusive husband as she holds her new baby in her arms. With quick dispatch she moves his intrusive presence out of her holy space, and then returns her attention where it belongs – to her baby girl.

And then, of course, there’s the Bible story of Nehemiah building his wall (Nehemiah 6: 1-9) –

…Sanballat and Geshem sent unto me, saying, Come, let us meet together in some one of the villages in the plain of Ono. But they thought to do me mischief.
And I sent messengers unto them, saying, I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down: why should the work cease, whilst I leave it, and come down to you?
Yet they sent unto me four times after this sort; and I answered them after the same manner.
“Then sent Sanballat his servant unto me in like manner the fifth time with an open letter in his hand;
Wherein was written, It is reported among the heathen, and Gashmu saith it, that thou and the Jews think to rebel: for which cause thou buildest the wall, that thou mayest be their king, according to these words.
“Then I sent unto him, saying, There are no such things done as thou sayest, but thou feignest them out of thine own heart.”

Nehemiah deals with the distractions quickly and efficiently, and gets back to finishing his wall.

As we approach Christmas, it might be timely to think, too, about all the distractions and intrusions Mary was dealing with as she was on the verge of giving birth to Jesus. The idea of material lack and limitation tried to intrude on Mary’s sacred time – but I can imagine her whole focus beamed in on the birthing of her baby. While negotiations and conversations about space in a barn were going on around her, I imagine her, unconcerned with the details, focused on the contractions that would soon bring forth Jesus.

I’m thinking we should be like The Waitress, and Nehemiah, and Jesus’ mother. WWTWD? (What would The Waitress do?) Yeah. Let’s be like her.

Intrusions in a Holy Space

There may come a time – a sacred and holy time –
when Malice and Jealousy will holler and yell
and make efforts to get our attention.  We will be
living through a rare opportunity, full of challenge
and uplift – transition and transformation, birth
and rebirth – and as the angels of Love gather
around to support us – Envy may demand
to be the focus, center, and star of the story.
Ego may stamp its foot, and spread rumors
and lies, and play the victim. Thoughtless
and oblivious to the challenges we’re facing,
Envy may push you or me aside
to stand in the spotlight,  or expect us
to entertain it and invite it for dinner.
And if this should happen – let’s keep thought
focused on what is true and holy and important –
honor what is worthy of our time and heart.
Don’t let’s be distracted by Hate or Greed
or Envy – these things are not deserving of our energy.
Love will lead us through the wilderness – will help
us address the lies that need to be addressed,
quickly, without fanfare and waste, and lead us
upward to meet angel-thoughts. Hope, Peace, Joy.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

When Moz Was Here

A comforting ritual – baking
the annual Thanksgiving pies
connects me to Thanksgivings
past – decades of home and love,
laughter, food, memories of those
who’ve newly-arrived, and those
departed. This year will be
the first Thanksgiving without
Moz. And as I pour blackberries
into the pie I realize these berries
were ones I picked the summer
after she passed, and I wonder
if I might have a left-over bag
of blackberries I picked during
the summer before –  when Moz
was still moving amongst us.
I go to the freezer in the garage
and root amongst the frozen bags,
digging, searching – and there!
I find a bag of berries marked
2016! And now a part of the world
that still held Moz in it is in
this year’s Thanksgiving pie.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

The Burden of Ego Lifted

Humbled and inspired –
the burden of ego lifted
from me in a moment
and understanding came –
Hush. It’s your turn to listen,
to let yourself be supported,
to let someone else share
her talents and gifts with you.
And Love gifted me
with the expression of beauty
offered by another
of Her children. Blessings
abound and surround,
here, now, all around.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

I Could Feel Her with Me today

I could feel her with me today
as I sat on the pew surrounded
by song and peace and love.
I could feel her in the calm,
in the courage, and in the hope.
She was with me in that space,
with me in my thoughts,
and she was real – as real as you
and me and the music.
As long as I can love, she’ll be with me –
and her love will live on in me –
whether it’s on a trail in the forest,
lunch with dear friends, or a church
on the corner of 6th and Cedar.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

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“For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God…”
– Romans 8