swing girl

an empty swing hangs between two worn metal bars.
the wind is the only evidence that memories still remain.
eagerly, the girl climbs onto the black seat waiting for her father's protective hands to give her a firm push into the land of the unknown.
time transforms the child into a teenager
who no longer wants her father to push her
but would rather use her mud-streaked white sneakers to push herself.
observing this gift of independence, her father silently sits on the park bench to watch this youthful girl with long blonde hair pumping her feet into a big world.
graduations, marriages and children skip into and out of this woman's life.
this lonely swing still hangs motionless
waiting for his friend.
the swing that brought her joy and freedom as a child.
the metal rings feel cold on her wrinkled hands.
she swings back and forth with more effort though
that spirit for life still pumps blood to her heart.
she longs for someone to push her.
yet, when she looks behind her,
she sees only a shadow of man who once was.

(*an original poem written by alex)

iris

a color that does not fade when the sun goes to sleep,
a color that remains for the whole world to see.

a color that confidently stands in the gray rainstorms

true to itself and to the one who created it.

a color that does not wonder "why" but rather "what is?"

a color that accepts differences and sows seeds of radical love.

a color who looks in the eyes of a friend, stranger or a child and

sees herself.

a color whose heart is burdened for the homeless and the poverty in our state, country and world.

a color who desperately longs to see our government wipe the tears of the oppressed away by passing the bill of "Love."

a color who stands out in the rain,

sponge soaked and wet with remorse for the hatred that has been done to her.

a color that looks the hurt in the eye and says:

"I forgive."

because sometimes, life is not always black and white.

sometimes, a little color is thrown in to the mix.

* a poem written by alex. (14 May 2010)

photograph

life is like a photograph.
the "captured moment" may appear self-explanatory but is it?
is there more going on that we don't know about, that we have left to uncover?
what are the people's emotions, what are they thinking about, how do they view life?
instead of looking at a photograph from the angle that i have been seeing it all along,
God has taken his hand and turned the picture around.
now, it is not my perspective that i view but His.

Beauty: Is it Only Skin Deep or Is There Something More?

Some people can gain everything and have nothing.

Appearances don't always accurately describe a person's true feelings.
Materialistic items; popularity, wealth, the latest car, a huge diamond ring, $30,000 shoes, a mansion.
These items may look physically appealing but the truth is, they don't last.
What if the simple things were attractive?
Instead of the Mercedes capturing commercials, what if laughter did?
Happiness doesn't come in a bottle of pills.
People initiate hugs, emotions, compassion, love.
What if you picked up the newspaper to see a field or a row of trees on the front page?
Why is it that these things which bring us happiness are so often overlooked?
Could it be that our priorities are a little skewed? A little slanted?
Appearance is superificial.

A friend once told me this about marriage:
Imagine what your spouse or significant other will look like 20 years from now. Will he or she still be beautiful? Will their beauty always come from the inside or will they be constantly searching for beauty in the latest wrinkle cream?

Lord, help me to be satisfied with the simple. The chirping birds, the dog that barks, the baby who cries. Let me see with your eyes that these items reflect your nature. That they are meant to produce love and affection and wholeness and peace. Whenever I doubt your grace, let me know that I'm covered.