A Summer Storm......

Rainbow

A Summer Storm

Wind of summer’s discontent,

Trees and tearing branches bent;

Waking early to driving rain,

Is summer relieving herself of pain?

Dancing rhythm of the wind,

Echoes of thunder’s brash alarm,

Hidden deep beneath my covers,

I feel safe from summer’s harm.

Lightning breaking in disjointed form,

Striking down at earth.

Plant life and creatures holding on,

Clinging to life for all they’re worth.

Gray and somber the summer sky,

Dark, ominous, filled with gloom,

I look about in midnight colors,

Searching for a clue, why summer’s mood?

Perhaps it’s summer’s hidden anger,

Sweeping earth to rid it of its sins.

Perhaps it’s summer giving life,

Her love showed while being stern!

Now with great relief I sigh,

As the summer storm passes by.

I search the light that breaks behind

For any kind of hopeful sign.

Maybe beyond it’s blue and clear,

Hoping a rainbow might appear.

The Shakers..Niskayuna - their home still a vision of the simple life!

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Waterveliet Shaker Village (Niskayuna)

Mother Ann Lee came here to find a new home for her "people".  The Shakers would indeed succeed and make many homes throughout the United States.

Ann is buried here and so are many of her followers, though each cemetery marker is the same.... and unless you read each stone you cannot find hers.

How simple and yet how fitting for those who treasured a simple life.  A life minus lust & temtations, simple and honest ...a life lived as a Gift to God!

Today we remember her and her followers....and perhaps today we need this simple lifestyle to come back and save the world from itself!

The Sadness of Oriskany...

The place where General Herkimer laid directing his troops

The sadness of that day seems to leap from the quiet air... the spot now holy in the annals of war.  But what of his comrades the Indian friends... whose presence is forgotten by local lore.

Arise dead soldiers unite as one 

to lift war's curse before the sun.

To mark a spot on sacred ground 

where fighting spoke words so profound.

Nothing solved, nothing gained, 

by war's red horror and blood red stain.

For ages and ages hence from now,

no spot will stand not even  bough!

Mr. Johnston is not Home!

Mr. Johnston is not Home!

I sit and wait for him to return, but he does not come.  I have grown tired over all these years, I have become lonely and I despair, for Mr. Johnston has left me alone to grieve for those happy days and loving nights.  There is no laughter to fill these walls, there is no joy.

The children have left for their future but alas, I have none. I can only listen to the vacant haunting sounds of the wind while I wait for Mr. Johnston to come home to me!  

The Silver Chain is Broken!

The sound of the drum has ceased to be!

The sound of our drum has ceased to be - like so many stories and promises made.  What was sealed with blood has bound no man or country.  I see the eagle above my head, I see the earth under foot, I see the blood and tears that have been shed.

The silver chain is broken..though each year we polish it bright.  The days of meaning have long since passed into time like the faces of our ancestors.  We call upon the spirits but they to lay sleeping in the bosom of the earth!

Arise and march for for us o'spirits...the time has come to renew your people and place them back as the keepers of your earth!