In Everything, Give Thanks mighty seas roar?

Have fears filled your soul?

Are you stuck looking backward

Instead of moving on?

Bravely look beyond your trials

Fix your gaze on God’s great love

Receive fully His rich goodness

In everything, give thanks

For this is His purpose always

Concerning all your days

In everything give thanks

Rest fully in His grace

In everything rejoice

For now and ever more

The Lord’s good pleasure

Is to open unto you a door

And it is always His delight

By bright day or dark of night

To give unto you…His Kingdom

In everything, give thanks

© 2013 S. Michaels
From God’s Heart

(Luke 12:32; 1 Thessalonians 5:18)

Blue Wing

Shorelines dip and dive

Shifting rocks and sand

Clinging to sunbathers

o-ka-leeeee — a-lee

A blackbird’s sing-song

Trills in prairie grasses

Rippling paintbrush and foxtail

Stirring up dust bowls

As great clouds gather

Dancing west to east

Awakening woodlands

A sun-freckled fawn dozes

Finding cool green shade

Below July’s¬†sweltering gaze

Blue wing skies skip and play

Whipping smouldering air

Into frenzied storm cells wide

Sailing south as ghostly galleons

Aspen leaves spin as dervishes

Trout splash in concentric circles

A dog’s bark echoes hollow

Chasing dream cats round a rain barrel

Sweet wild silly summer days

Watermelon colours and rainbows

Moments melted, clinging together

All out of breath, collapsed in a heap

As time catches up and moves on

© 2012 S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings

Saving Seeds

This first week of June, I feel compelled to drift¬†back to my mother’s¬†garden…to¬†the plain country home of my childhood where I first¬†explored the¬†secrets of the universe…and¬†growing things.

I dream of¬†my mother’s garden with¬†its orderly assymetry of neat rows suddenly interjected by feathery¬†bright cosmos sprouting up¬†amidst the dill or the tiny faces of¬†miniature pansies peeking up from¬†amongst the potatoes.

As long as I can recall,¬†Mom always worked in her garden for five months a year. She spent hours¬†watering, hoeing, weeding and digging and never seemed to tire of¬†her labours,¬†through days sun-soaked¬†or rain-swept.¬†Our lives were happily entangled¬†in a¬†burgeoning world of winding cucumber vines, snow peas,¬†belgian beans,¬†carrots, sweetpeas and snapdragons,¬†petunias, sunflowers, hollyhocks¬†and bachelor’s buttons. Things just kept growing.

That was¬†a long time ago. Or so it seems. And except for¬†a much¬†smaller patch of soil which Mom now hoes and seeds, things haven’t changed much in her gardening world.¬†She still itches to be out cultivating. The morning glories now climb one trellis, an orange honeysuckle the other.¬†And¬†I realize that Mom has become a¬†master¬†at¬†saving seeds and preserving a legacy.

The¬†belgian beans and snow peas¬†she plants¬†can’t be purchased anywhere. The seeds are ‘carried over’¬†year after year.¬†¬†The beans originally crossed the ocean to Canada when¬†my aunt’s mother-in-law emigrated from Europe.¬†The snow peas came¬†from somewhere in the ‘old country’ and belonged to¬†my great¬†grandmother.¬† They are ‘heritage seeds’.¬†Eating the ‘fruit’ of these seeds once the plants have grown¬†is like a sudden burst of¬†something new and rich and old and¬†exotic all at once…a fresh and unique heavenly¬†treat. Mom serves the beans boiled plain with a dab of butter. The beans exude a rare nutty flavor that is impossible to duplicate and¬†the peas¬†are¬†exceptionally sweet and tender, and are wide-shaped¬†and much thinner than any standard modern day varieties I’ve found.

Not surprisingly, my mother is a woman of faith. Like the¬†seeds she holds dear and guards so tenderly and wisely, her faith seems to hold¬†wondrous secrets about well-being, longevity, happiness, joy, peace, and hope. Mom shares her¬†faith as generously and warmly and¬†naturally as¬†she does her bright garden and curved flower borders her neighbours so often admire. Right now, her irises and peonies are starting to put on a show.¬†Mom keeps on weeding and hoeing and managing her garden.¬†There is no end to her toils, and she doesn’t mind. To her, it’s all play. And there are a few yellow daylilies sticking up near the winter onions this year.

Saving seeds…there’s so much more to this garden than meets the eye…

© S. Michaels 2012