Giving
So much has happened
so many changes.
the day after Christmas,
a warm feeling covering
me.
Travelling down a road
past ego, away from
crowds
we've filled our days
in children and dreams.
Sometimes too tired to
move,
that calm fulfilled
feeling
covers us into sleep,
dreams, peace surround
us.
An old work project
completed
its struggles, a war in
years
now stands alone,
existing.
New people, who never
had a chance
now do.
Old people, disguised in
plots
have moved aside, and me
noticing the hands of
God.
I don't wonder so much
my patience is better.
Change takes longer than
expected.
Perhaps the greatest
gift has been
an increased ability to
wait
in the continuity and continuum,
processing changes.
Of writing and painting
I am,
having found new ways
to say, and do.
Used to be, a solitary
penance
locked in rooms,
uniformed,
without benefit of ease
and stalled until all
was correct.
Now, not so.
All things can be
shared,
sometimes writing,
painting
while cooking dinner,
child watching,
the brutality of
solitude
gone.
Abstract expressionism,
internal poems
a short-term therapy,
not a lifetime sentence.
Harshness of both,
necessary,
but not all there can
be.
To be an artist is to
know
we become what
we've done,
if no one understands
you've written ,
illustrated loneliness.
There can be more to it
these worlds of media
where we make our marks
are vast,
a lifeime of
exploration.
Day by day, they
give rise to the sun.
through hope and
struggle.
We live at the beach
now,
406 steps from
Lake Ontario.
Children, dogs, birds,
friends,
ins, outs, telephones,
lawns,
neighbors, blue skies,
large
white clouds,
a pine trees stand along
side,
dancing with the winds.
Jennifer, Jason and
Joshua
grow as our flowers
happy, sad, laughter,
tears,
a tender stance we take
through growth.
A family as a garden.
There is nothing sadder
than their tears,
nothing better
than their hugs,
our lives grow with
them.
Now she and I, my Kathy
step into new worlds
where the point is soft,
temperatures warm.
We've spun toward
tomorrows
in my breakneck pace
as she, suffering our
consequences
showed me a slower gate.
Inside, calming down to
wait.
for the proper
moment of now.
Christmas lights, cold
air gushes
travels to and fro, complete
on this, the last day of
1985.
to her body's life
features
she, sleeping for New
Year's Eve
and I, sum up
a most favorable
of times.
Passing down, previous
Christmas
we moved to spring as
dreams,
health growing, warm
days coming
balance returned.
Warm nights, children
sleeping
the lake
rolled in to our right.
Monies, projects flowing
we stood to the front
of Jack Van Ingen, he
blessed us.
France, France, France,
France
Children in baseball, 14
a side
the chaos makes me
smile.
Our summer, enveloped
in playing fields.
Fall, communication for 125,000
we rode, 1imoback
towards the twi1ight
of Christmas Eve.
Several years
appear on pages,
ups, downs
put in phrases
representing time.
Perhaps it's best to say
the movement, now
from Giving to Balance
is a way,
toward tomorrows.
Howard Beattv
December 31st.