A BABY IS BORN

Pardon me for wanting to show you photos of my brand new grandson, Ronen. But the fact is, he is the most awesome child in the world. Every grandma knows that to be true about her grandchildren. :)

Only a week old, he has already wrapped each one of us in love. He is a miracle for sure.

His mom, my daughter Jocelyn, is extraordinary, caring for him, loving him, being the best mother in the world. My son-in-law, Evan, is an unbelievably supportive husband and father. What a blessing  it is to watch the two of them bonding with their newborn son.

Here is Ronen coming home from the hospital:

 Here is Ronen holding on to his daddy's chin:

Here is Ronen yawning with his Mom

By the way, Ronen is a Hebrew name which means "Song of Joy." That is surely an apt name for this tiny tune of a boy who is bringing everyone so much happiness just by being alive!

More Words To Fathom

By Sharon Flitterman-King

Words grow out of words

I fathom that—

  from the Indo-European root

  word pet: To spread

As in “length of two arms

stretched out.”

         .

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;

Those are pearls that were his eyes

         .

But wait, there’s more:

the Latin patere to be open

  comes from pet

  As in patent and clear

    and open

to understanding

Or the Latin pandere

  to spread out, in

  expand, the possibilities

of fathom

the word

Related to the beautiful

  petal, from the Greek

  petalon, from pet

    a leaf, whose loveliness

    often I cannot

fathom

Then there’s paella and pan

  also from pet, in the

  Greek patane, or

  “thing spread out”

So let’s eat and drink

  to words—

  as we fathom them

    together

         .

Nothing of him that does fade

But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich

  and strange

the fathomless tempest

of words.

--For Claudia

Sharon Flitterman-King, PhD, lives with her husband in Hillsdale, New York. She is the author of "A Secret Star," among other works.

 

 

        . 

Fathoming the Moment

It started as a single word

I heard it
ringing inside my head
during this morning's
meditation.

For some odd reason
I will never quite ==fathom==
that very word
FATHOM popped
up front and center
in my mind
I was so pulled by it that
I stopped meditation
went into the
study to consult
the Oxford
dictionary
it said the
word
was derived
from Old English

"two arms
outstretched
embrace
bosom"
and then
"grasp,
power."

I went back
to meditating
and drinking my warm
cup of chai,
but I wasn't
able to stop thinking
about fathom,
and then into my head
came Eckart Tolle's book
THE POWER OF NOW,
I read that book
I keep it beside my
bed I am never very
far away
because what Tolle
 is
saying that I love
is that
we can only come into
consciousness
when we live
in the PRESENT MOMENT
but how do we fathom
this and this
and this and this
====moment ====
moments always
slippery and sliding
away?

I inhaled and
and went back
to meditating
I kept tr=====y====ing
to embrace the NOW
Tolle writes:
"Focus attention on
the feeling inside you,
but don't think about
it just FEEL IT
STOP THINKING
because
"The mind, to ensure that it
remains in control,
seeks continuously to cover
up the PRESENT ==== MOMENT

with past and future,"
The hear
and
HERE AND
===NOW===
here LIES THE
KEY TO
ultimately A UNION
WITH THE DIVINE
POWER OF THE UNIVERSE
yes, that is GOD but
Tolle says don't use
that Word because
"the word God
has become empty of meaning
through thousands of years of
misuse."

Now I sit here hours
later so many thousand
present moments
have gone flittering away
with me not
BEING in them.

I try to fathom
not thinking
and I cannot
I am lost
going out
of my mind.

But I am still
sitting here
truly
====trying====
to stop explaining
to stop writing
to you
and just start
feeling
it is snowing
softly outside the window
every flake falling
moment after moment
at an angle
The birds
outside the kitchen keep
pecking at
the suet they come swooping in and
flying and landing
on the feeders
with the black
oiled
sunflower
seed

and now for God's
sake I need to
stop,
====JUST STOP===
this poem has gone
on long enough
don't
write another
============

So cold so cold so so so so cold...

How cold is cold is cold is cold is cold? It’s just

way way way way way way way too cold. :)

Too cold to hold the steering wheel, even with padded mittens!

So cold that fingertips burrrrrrrrn

So cold that the nose –if exposed-- quickly turns the pink of a rose.
Only stalwart birds venture out to the feeders!

Chimneys pipe out circles of hot breath.

People bundle up in so many layers of hats and scarves and hoods

that you cannot tell who they are. 

Cars don’t start

or if they do,

they groan

and squeak

in all of their metal joints

when you turn the ignition.

But then

comes a morning

like this one, the sky

as clear as blue crystal

You sigh and

you say

oh well the air might be as fierce as white cold fire out there

but it’s still one grandly beautiful day.

SNOW POEM

As blank as this white screen

is the view outside my window.

Snow falling, snow blowing,

mounding higher and higher

on every surface.

Is it me? Or do you find

that the perfect whiteness

of a blank winter page

strikes up some anxiety?

As if we were still in school

and no matter that we didn’t

know what the hell we were

supposed to be writing,

we still somehow had to fill the

white sheet of lined paper

with our brightest ideas.

Today I stand beside the window

And force myself to slow

Down down down

to match the falling snow.

The only motion is that of

the flakes

pillowing 

in steep angles

 to the ground.

It being Saturday

There is

Nowhere to go

Nothing to do

Except fill the bird feeders

and build a fire in the

woodstove and read a book

or look out the window

or write poetry and

snap photographs of the snow.

The End of Friendship

As odd as it may seem,

The dream is never the

Dream is the dream,

And in it we share the

Crisp dark curtain

of certainty that I

want  no part of

her friendship

which went amiss

Is this why I dreamt

About her?

After the dream, I wake up

And cannot go back to sleep.

I keep thinking about the

Dream and the last time we spoke, I told

Her I did not want to

Befriend her any more.

This severed tie

Is weighing on me

Obviously

I could see her pale blue eyes

That sometimes were sea green.

I could say I miss her,

But between you and me

I would be lying.

There unable to get back to

How dare she interrupt

My sleep?

She messed up she

ACTUALLY MISSED
MY FRIEND’S

Wedding would

You believe it?

She was always

Self-centered

But this

Was

Way

Too

Much

To take.

Sky Poem

Outside the window,

the sky doesn’t doubt its

color for a moment, 

nor does it ever

moan any complaints.

Above the dark horizon,

the sky has a soft, golden glow,

ever so lightly dusted in pink.

The gold fades imperceptibly into

the pale blue of the winter sky.

The sky is poised on

the cusp of the evening.

The day has passed by and the sky

Has done its share, producing beauty,

While I have not smiled or

appreciated it nearly enough.

Tomorrow I vow that I will make it a point to

sit and stare into the sky.