Walking The Dogs: a lesson in faith

into every life a little rain
a fave of the rain leaves and flowers

They lead me down a wet dirt road
Of wonder
And I do
There was a break in the rain
After every cadence and rhythmic crazy percussion sound
Beat down hard in torrents for
A never ending time to get out the gopher wood
Sort of day
No a season, a long one
Where the rain is external internal incessant

And they lead me down the wet dirt road
The one with spilled smells of this won’t last forever
And we dodge puddles and look for damp hope
That this washed away the pitiful
Lord lead me not into a place of pity

Canines have a way of sniffing out the best spots
And pulling hard when you are dragged down in more than pluff mud

The raindrops are heavy on the leaves
And no rainbow has broken out it’s colorful
Hallelujah chorus
Just because you cannot see
Does not mean it is not there

The yellow lab finds glory all along the wet dirt road of wonder
I should have half his faith

The break in the symphony of heavenly wet
And we go spilling back out into the world
These dry bones
Should have known
It wouldn’t last forever.

It never does.
And there are smells and sights and sound on the wet dirt road
They won’t wait around forever
Joy doesn’t have an expiration date but today’s joy is
Today’s joy

Just ask the old yellow lab
Who’s on borrowed time

It’s time to walk in the rain.


art one

We wove around the Old Ragsdale Building

Among and in

And like ants on the way to the fried chicken from The Pig at a picnic

We were searching for

Around a million different ways to see a world.

Hanging displayed sitting displayed  whispering shouting

Every piece at a different pitch

Perfect for its medium.

But I was there for Agnes . And I was there for Agnes’ child.

A life can take up a whole back wall of a tobacco building in its telling,

And still leave out whole parts. How many panels does it take to capture fully

Close to ninety years.

Like a camera, painter artist daughter friend

Makes permanent a life.

Elegance and wit wind around the strokes  color, pigmentation teaches in tones of peach.

Stand back and breathe in, a girl becomes a wise matriarch

Just paces down the old brick sits

An anteater eating of all things a colony of gigantic ants beside voter registration.

This is Artfields and this is what they do, documentarians of our lives,

One studied nine breasts,  documenting differences.

But I was there for Agnes and  “All The In  Between.”

To  see a hundred ways to see a world,


But driving all this way to know the love of one,

Daughter for her dying mom.

Agnes would laugh at her juxtaposition of a life,

So close to

Well an anteater. And I know because I know

The Artist.

And the ways she sees all the in between,

The panels of a life.


To discover more of my friend and her work, visit lauriemcintoshstudio dot com. And pick up her book Agnes’ life “All The In Between – My Story of Agnes” (Amazon, Barnes and Noble and at MuddyFordPress.com )

Adagio: Vernal Light

blades of grass adagio projectTwo women, two writers, one love of poetry, thus The Adagio Project was born. A writer spends  time penning her words alone, in a cafe, in a writing cottage, or in the middle of living. Right in the middle of where she  lives out her days. A kitchen table,  a chair by a window are  more than enough for most.

But Holly Grantham of A Lifetime of Days and I have paired our love for words, especially poetic ones. Partnered, to weave threads of thought together. We have never met, nor even spoken to one another. Our words are our tether, one to the other poet. From across over one thousand miles we create poems for Adagio: A Poetry Project.

Seeking a visual prompt to launch this part of the project, we have graciously received and incorporated  the visual art of photographer Kelly Sauer. Kelly’s love and use of light were significant  inspiration points for our offering here. She captures beauty, light and life in an exceptionally lovely way. And she shares our love for blogging on her own, La Joie, La Vie.



Vernal Light

Hope hangs her head, long and low
Prays for light to pierce the dark
buried in the blur of time, gathers
pearls, drops of faith cling
to ray on ray of radiant
Hope, bows to birth
love has found her way

Vernal light glimmers golden on
pearled edges
as days lengthen and clocks spin
and the wisps of honey covered
blow airy and light
billowing curtains and hearts

We cannot see frail and broken
made of bone and flesh
we  still hold to doubt and fear
but tender is the soul infused with hope
for it
holds new mercy rising on the orange blaze, promises
to take us with her
as she dreams

There are shadows, still
but brighter is that which
slants across her face
than that which seeks to rule the world
When there are only dark days
piled one upon the other

That is the promise of the
an emerging efforescence
that causes hands to lift
and eyes to shine
while their glint burns bright
upon the field

Look for signs of tender hope
when wrinkled lines curl gentle on the edge
of lip and eye, blue no more
the bird has made her
nest of
fragile eggs
laid in trust
hold gentle as you breathe out dread
and winter’s gloom is carried off
light breaks open
claiming hearts and souls again


Holly and I are grateful too for Lisa Leonard at Lisa Leonard Designs whose jewelry is shown here on the model’s neckline.  The photograph used in Vernal Light was  selected  from  a collaboration between Lisa Leonard and Kelly Sauer. Again, thank you Kelly for generously allowing us to partner with you. You can find more of Kelly’s work  at Kelly Sauer dot com.  And you can follow her blog and her art through words at La Joie, La Vie.

If you are interested in reading all of the poems in the collective, click here