" . . . poetry is our most ancient form of prayer, 
is a healing medicine . . . can be a nondenominational form of prayer, 
a companion through difficulty, 
a doorway to the soul, and a direct conduit 
to an inner source of joy, peace and inspiration." 

~ K.Rosen

Horsehoe Cove

thank you, Great Spirit, for the words 

that bespeak our deepest thoughts . . .  

Delphic like the massive plunge of the inlet's sandbar

. . . that connect to our most heartful memories -- 

saddened that our loved ones will not be seated at the dinner table

to celebrate holidays like today -- 

blessings surround us

like the bayshore's lapping waves 

as we whisper thanksgivings 

in Horseshoe Cove, our humble sanctuary 

What I miss

The holidays don't seem to be the same without Dad.  As A. & I drove home down the NJ Turnpike, we talked about what's different.  We still shuffle between our families -- Thanksgiving lunch with his family, dinner with mine.  The same people are in attendance -- minus Dad.   And then I realized, our gatherings lack a certain color to them that Dad always managed to radiate. While some family members can be quite colorful, it's not the same extroverted banter that Dad enthusiastically shared during the holidays.  He had his moments that would leave us in bellyaching laughter, unable to breathe.  And that's what I miss most.  


I guess that's why younger kids' crazy energy is so delightful at family gatherings.  A strong reminder to be in the present.  Thank you to my nephews, two-and-a-half-year-old J. & one-year-old-plus S., for being my amusing prompts today!