little bit of lagniappe

reflecting on everyday grace

The Bluebirds (in honor of my mama)

This post is for my mama, the inspiration behind this poem I wrote last weekend.  Thanks be to God, we have spent the whole day together, and I am with her now – being, reading, laughing, telling stories, listening to the symphony of storm, and curling up to watch one of our favorites Fried Green Tomatoes. We spent this morning walking in our sixth Race for the Cure, holding hands nearly the entire way and celebrating this gift of life.  We haven’t spent time together like this since her hip replacement recovery, and on this “Mother’s Day weekend,” I’m reminded to give thanks every single day. What are we waiting for?

With tear-stained cheeks and smiling eyes, I watch her as she gazes in wonder at her beloved bluebirds…

I love you, my mama. So doggone much.

 

The Bluebirds

It was an all-day event

yesterday —

the rains came rushing down

upon the earth,

sometimes like ferocious, desperate pebbles

and sometimes like a gentle whisper.

I watched from my double-paned window

for much of the day

and stood in amazement

at the bluebirds

Mr. and Mrs.

still at work on the nest:

they batted their waterlogged wings,

pecked and nudged

and hovered over the tender structure

of twigs, pine straw, and hope.

It was an all-day event —

the rains came rushing down,

and still they kept on

and even offered a song or two

amid the storm.

 

We have a lot to learn

from these neighbors.

When the storm rages,

may we tend to life

with pine-straw persistence

and twigs of hope.

For we know that what is

being built

is for something

far larger than ourselves.

 

May we look up,

offer a song,

a plea for help

with our tender structure,

and recognize that even these rains

baptize and cleanse

and make us new.

-C.C. T.

May 5, 2013

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2 thoughts on “The Bluebirds (in honor of my mama)

  1. Perry Thomas on said:

    Simply just beautiful, my sweet precious Angel!

    I think what your Mama wants, almost as much as anything else in life, is to see live, in person, the little bluebird chicks fledge.

    I love you, Sweetheart!

    Poppy

  2. Edith Jones Floyd on said:

    Dear Carter, I feel baptized anew by your poem…the blessing of the bluebirds! Thank you for being an ever present inspiration!

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