how much can we hold?

 to hold past and present

I am at an age at which I'm afraid

I'm approaching my "use by" date,

moments can feel increasingly precious:

right now the air is cool and breezy,

the lowering sun is bright on the tree tops

and the high cirrus clouds look 

as if the sky is an artist, 

flamboyantly creating for the sheer joy 

that the natural universe

seems to gratuitously express and reveal,

there must be volition in the beauty around us,

and I choose to see God's work 

in the rightness of a cloud,

the perfection of a flower,

the smile that can greet us,

just before these musings I have been rummaging through things

my long-gone mother held close enough to save,

things and words that spoke strongly to her

of those people and experiences that meant a lot

and were worth holding on to,

despite how much they turn as if to sand in our hands,

I just got a small piece of paper of hers ready to mail:

a poem she wrote of the second marriage of her first son,

I hope it will speak to his first son

and help him appreciate from whence he had come,

thee are cards, articles, pictures before us

within the boxes she used to hold her worlds,

we are challenged by loss,

we are challenged to appreciate our moments,

we are challenged to hold yesterday

with enough immediacy to appreciate

what was formerly in our skies,

as well as the glory that is there now.

by Henry H. Walker

September 8, ‘25