This morning my fingers stumbled upon the Blog of a friend whom I’ve lost touch with.  She’s one of those friends God gives us for a ‘season’.  We feed and support each other’s spirits then life takes each of you on your own parallel, no longer intersecting, journey.  However, your hearts know that you are but a moment away should one of you need to reach out.

I’ve always known that my friend is a voracious reader, and a writer, but discovering the blog itself was a lovely surprise.  When these unexpected connections occur, I try to pause and reflect in an effort to understand what message God is trying to give me in that moment.  Sometimes I am moving too quickly in my life to pause and find the answer, but this morning I am not.

This morning I clearly see the new thread of connection between us weaving its strand into the fibers that already connect us.

A few years ago, I joined a little poetry writing class and explored the art of crafting words.  It was difficult, but when I put the work into it, and when I allowed myself to be vulnerable to the constructive feedback of the writers around the table, my writing improved, and my spirit was happy.   The class ended and we each moved on, scattering our words like seeds around us as we went on with our lives.  Since you are reading this you know that I’ve continued to play with words, but not with poetry.

It has been quite some time since I thought about my friend or the fact that I once tried writing poetry.  But now that I am thinking about them both, I realize how much I really enjoyed, and now miss, both of them.  I know that I will see a Christmas card from her family, and she from mine, but this year, in the bleak mid-winter ahead, I my heart tells me we will connect with more than a postage stamp.

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…here is one of the poems I wrote while in the class….

Trusting 

Longing 

I gaze as a mother cradles her baby in the aisle

my arms hugging my empty soul

Inhaling 

I flip through magazine pages, breathing deeply 

the baby breath sweetness of lotions and onesies

Listening 

my mother’s ears wake to a cry a world away 

silent tears cutting my heart 

Waiting 

after months of toil, pausing indefinitely 

without a treasured grainy image

Dreaming 

I whisper love into your heart 

before entrusting you back to caring angels

Unbelieving, I answer the call making you ours 

A daughter, 

born a world away, 

our beloved child