Truly Horrible Poetry, But With Meaningful Intent

Late owls salute dawn.
Honeysuckle scents the breeze.
A mouse-blessed cat leaps.

I'm back outside getting an early morning constitutional these days. I go despite my tired eyelids and my neck, which is still a bit painful. Funny, but after Sian, Husband, and I had an hours-long relaxing and humorous shopping trip in The Big City yesterday, my neck was just fine. I woke up this morning and it was painful again. I imagine that has to do with getting back to work with the addition of all six kids now being out of school and gearing up for whiny boredom.

To counter that small stressor, I composed the above pathetic verse during my walk/jog today. I would have added something about "The incongruous sight and sound of a trim, red minivan blasting gangsta rap," but not only did that very real experience not evoke the bucolic imagery I was going for, but I couldn't figure out how to include it within the restrictive syllabic requirements of a haiku.

I walk naked, but only in the sense that my ears are not stuffed with music-conducting electronics. I used to run with music, but I gave that up long ago in favor of quiet contemplation -- and you can see the inerudite results. Still, it's very peaceful to concentrate on the movement of your arms and legs, listen to your breathing, savor the mental observations about the world around you, and let your thoughts take you where they will. If bad poetry is born of such contemplation, well, there are worse things in the world. (I think.)

As I mentioned already, Husband, Sian, the two little boys, and I took a trip to The Big City yesterday. Our purpose was to shop, and to obtain our goal we needed to drop off Joseph and Little Gary at their grandparents' house. I thought that taking them to The Big City was a better idea than leaving them at home, where their sisters might not enjoy watching over them as closely as they require. Grandma and Grandpa were happy to spend some time with them, so Sian, Husband, and I embarked on a journey for new birthday clothes for Sian.

Five and one half hours later, we were still looking for the perfect pair of jeans that didn't also cost as much as next month's mortgage payment. Sian was getting very discouraged when Husband suggested we stop in one last store at the mall. At Sears, we found jean perfection and steep sales, a happy combination. Sian walked out three pairs richer, with a smile on her face.

To Sian (Though She Already Knows This and Lives It)

The true beauty of a girl
Cannot be measured by the makeup on her face
Or the brand names sewn on her clothes.
True beauty is not defined by her body measurements
Or the money in her bank account
Or the adornments hanging from her ears, encircling her neck, or sparkling on a finger.
The true beauty of a girl
Is measured by the light she carries inside,
Which grows brighter each day
That she recognizes her inherent and divine worth as a daughter of a loving
God.
The world measures beauty in fickle terms,
And to be beautiful to the world is but a fleeting and empty accomplishment.
True beauty is lasting, and rich, and meaningful,
And will only be found through study, prayer, a joyful heart, and loving service.
But the promise of true beauty is that it transcends the fickle, worldly measures
To adorn a girl as she becomes a woman, and a woman throughout the decades of her life,
Until she stands once again before her Father and offers to Him the whole of her heart
To be encircled about by His arms and hear the words, "Well done, my darling and beautiful daughter. Welcome home."
That is true beauty.



(The above was written on Tuesday, May 31)