Rose-petal rain in the morning sun

Rose-petal rain in the morning sun

by Ann Hutchinson 5/2/2017

Rose petals rain down in the morning sun

Does the mother bird know…
What a sweet-smelling home she builds in the tree?
Does the 12-foot rose tree know…
It is supposed to be a bush?

We have endured a week of rain for such a day

The bird is one of those pesky jays.
But now it is just an expectant mother.
She wove her bowl of twigs high
Among soft flowers, guarded by large thorns.

A train whistles, stirring memories, clearing its path

Did mama bird intentionally choose that side…
That stretches over the silky lambs’ ear?
Was she planning ahead,
Imagining her child’s first flight?

A dove’s plaintive coo is cut off by a crow’s caw

Mother Jay flies to the peak of a nearby roof
And surveys backyards, looking for threats,
For food sources near enough, but not too near
She flaps her wings, shaking off forebodings.

A warm wind brings a shower of pink petals

Mother Jay tilts her head, seems to look at me
Does she know we are one?
Two mothers surveying the surroundings
Giving thanks for the sun?

Dealing with the grief

I am experiencing disbelief and grief – every stage of grief.

I feel betrayed, abandoned, frightened, sad, helpless and mad.

Everywhere I turn I am confronted with this madness, this threat, the weight of this new reality, that feels like a science fiction novel. The source of all this misery is in my face every day. He means to hurt my family, my friends, and people I don’t know. He means to hurt people he doesn’t know. It’s not personal.

But it is.

Who let him do this? Why is no one stopping him? The people and rules that should have prevented this have failed us. And still many people think he is on their side. That he is not out to rape and pillage. I was reminded last night of the Jonestown tragedy. People are once again drinking the cool-aide. This time, it’s an erosion of freedoms, an atmosphere of hate, a slow-acting poison.

I am beginning to see a parallel here with domestic violence and incest. The people who are supposed to keep us safe are causing us harm. The people who are supposed to keep us safe are allowing another family member to violate us. It’s no wonder so many of us are stressed, not sleeping, crying, snapping at one another and feeling a sense of dread.

I can’t forget the feelings. While I move against him with letters and phone calls, I will remember to love wherever I can. Including myself. Rather than reminding my fellow wounded to act, reminding them of what’s at stake, I wish to provide respite from the deluge of bad news and SHOULDS. I need a break from my vigilance now and then to gather my strength and remember why I am standing up against him, writing letters, making calls, volunteering and marching.

We need each other, now, more than ever. We may not all realize it, but we are all at risk. Except those who are a 1% WASP male. Even still, it will effect someone they know.

So, if this resonates with you, join me in making time just to spread the love. I used to get sick of all those cute animal posts and pictures of food on Facebook. Now I could use more of that. We have turned Facebook into a support group, where we’re always talking about the problem and commiserating. We need relief. I know I do. Let’s flood Facebook, Twitter and Instagram with things the he can’t threaten.

I will not give away my serenity to the likes of him. I will place my trust in the LOVE we share as humans. LOVE will win.

Bring on the babies, the kittens and the messages of hope and victory.

 

photo of Camano Island, WA by Jeffrey Lemkin