Just Simply Be

Just Simply Be

Chick-a-Dee diminished in stature

Are you able to get what you’re after?

Small bird, last at the feeder-

Pecking seed left from

Birds that are bigger;

Bully Blue Birds, Robust Robins and

Thrushes rushing to feed

For all two-winged fowl have this need.

Little Chick-a-Dee, perched on a limb

‘Smallness’ is not a mortal sin nor found from within

Tiny body beautiful with feathers light

Have no fear

Let go

Take flight

And,

Just simply be.

Phrases to be By

In the night, silent tears slide
DOWNCAST EYES
shouldn't be surprised to once again feel reduced to
NOTHING
I can say, can or will change the mind of the one who is beyond
SEEING
hidden scars inflicted by cutting remarks which only serve to
REMIND
me to lift my face toward the morning and
LOOK UP for
TOMORROW
is another day.

Anne W. Brewer
August 20, 2009
Artwork by Lauren Pressler

Flo's Inn

"Flo's Inn"

In the Father's BIG HOUSE where God's people meet

Have you found your mansion, Mom-

Does Grandma Wall live just down the street?

Did you hang a shingle-name it Flo’s Inn?

Is the house sunflower yellow - have a comfy red chair

Where you do your crossword puzzles in?

Do you invite angels in for afternoon tea-

I wonder if you ever get around to chatting about me?

Does Dad send emails to Peter and Paul,

Or, is there no need for computers at all?

Perhaps he’s out fishing with Steve and Ken

Will you fry up a mess in your black iron pan?

Is my name in the registrar-my reservation in?

For the time will come Mom, when I’ll be ready for Flo’s Inn.

Will it be like coming home to the smell of your

Baked chicken and rice, cornbread and ice tea?-

That would be so nice.

Can we sit in the glow of the fireplace,

Reading our poetry together-just us two-

Oodles of complements to each other on jobs well done-

'Cause if we don't we just may not get none.

‘.

So, I’ll see you soon, Mom

Perhaps not just around the bend-for that’s something

That only God knows when.

But I’ll be ready to bask in the King’s Sonshine so

I’ve already put in my reservations for

The infamous Flo’s Inn.

Anne Brewer

July 2009

Endurance

ENDURANCE

Stricken by grief.
Grief-stricken
I’ve been melted down with stars.
The eclipse darkens my soul and
Sorrow is as thick as the
Night air I breathe.
I fill my lungs with the
Pain of separation and
Exhale an Expectation
Of
ENDURANCE.

“Therefore since we also, since we are surrounded
By so great a cloud of witnesses…let us run the race
With endurance the race that is set before us…” (Hebrews 12:1)

RAN

“La Plaza Flores”

A hundred pigeons’ flight of freedom ends as they land for handfuls of crumbs.

Picking from the snarled hands of an old woman, they peck to the counter beat of the *Bomberos’s brass concierto to a circling, cheering crowd.

Horns hammering out notes to the beat of the big bass drum- cymbals clanging,

Children clamoring in *Castellano, in their fun unknowingly climbing on

Stately statues of famous figureheads of

Argentina's ancient ancestry from centuries long past.

The shade begins to cast itself over the tree tops

Mothers begin to call out names-

Little ones run into the embrace of loving arms.

Pigeons take flight,

It’s time to go home.

Anne Brewer

Revised March 20, 2007

*Bomberos’s -*Firemen’s’-

*Castellano is what Argentineans recognize as the official language of Argentina.

The picture above is Plaza Flores where this poem was written in Buenos Aires.