I saw a Badger trucker/
rolling north /
through the snowcapped mountains.
Top down,
I pointed to my “G for Greatness” /
Packer bumper sticker, /
and flashed him a “W”
Wisconsin sign.
With his mighty horn,
he blasted “On, Wisconsin!”
Two Cheeseheads,/
on the freeway,/
connected./
I hope /
he knows /
he made my morning 🙂
Maybe the best way/
to get the Christmas spirit/
is to act like Christ.
Given my druthers,/
I’d rather ride with her than/
crusty old truckers.
He’d had his chance
to dance
the faithful foxtrot;
the passionate polka;
the spiritual samba;
the wayfaring man waltz.
He had,
once,
started the music playing,
but then,
in his ignorance,
had hit several wrong chords,
and the dance ended.
The stagecoach turned
into a pumpkin,
and the glass slipper
cracked and shattered.
But he kept humming
different tunes,
until he figured out
which one was his
true
melody.
Which one
could be played
in hallowed courts.
Which one
would ring right
in her ears,
through her brain,
flutter her heart,
transform her soul
as his
had been.
He hoped she,
with her lofty view,
would let him
sing again,
high on the mountain top.
Why do I feel so funkified?/
Like the joy that lives within me, died?/
Is it just that I am overly tired?/
Or I got exhausted as I worked and perspired?/
Or would I feel better if I just emoted and cried?
They were only
words:
Words
meant to create
emotions,
share feelings,
verbally prompt us
to enjoy each other.
Instead,
remembering the words,
knowing how they impacted you,
makes me feel
like I’ve trampled
on flowers,
squished ladybugs
under my heel,
turned a magnifying glass’s beam
on an ant hill,
thrown frogs in the road,
torn the wings
off of butterflies.
That is not
who I am.
That is not
what I would do.
And yet,
With my mouth,
my lips,
my tongue,
I did.
What if,
instead of losing
weight,
I want to grow more
greatness?
What if,/
instead of trimming
my figure,
I want to expand
the world’s knowledge
and insight?
Who will be
my coach,
my trainer,
getting in my face,
screaming at me,
“Once more.
Once more!
You got this.
You got this!
Push it.
Push it!”
When you follow the/
Lord’s promptings you may learn why/
you had to do it.
When your child tells you:/
“We are all losers!”, it’s time/
that you prove her wrong.
Giant red cedars./
Moss. Ferns. Rain. Gray skies. Traffic.
I don’t miss a thing.