Writers Corner for September 14, 2012

A FAITH LIKE GRANDMA'S

(Dedicated to Peggy Blackburn)

A faith like my grandma

is what I long to gain

Her trust it never wavers

regardless of life's pain

She is strong and sure

her God does never fail

When the storm of life does darken

she trusts Him to prevail

I have studied many hours

learning deep theology

But my truest times of learning

were at my "Grammies" knee

Without the fancy wording

of a deep and heavy book

She taught me simple trust

"He is Sovereign" says her look

So when I face my own trails

I will know that from His hand

Flows a sweet and bitter providence

and His plan is beyond grand

This faith is what God asks

and indeed, what He requires

And so I thank my Grandma

for this kind of faith, she inspires.

- Will Dole, Plummer

•••

BECKONING TRUTH

Truth, oh truth,

Knowing not why his conscience beckons,

Wisdom is calling to his deceptive soul.

Truth, oh truth,

Before the lies behind him,

consume the life in front of him.

Truth, oh truth.

- Keith Sargent, Mullan

•••

RIPPLING PUDDLE

I stare into the puddle

Rippling from the rain drop

Sent from the sky's above.

And wonder at the meaning

Showing endless continuances

Without stop.

Followed thru out its trail

Ever expanding, ever renewing -

Changing worlds as it rolls along.

There is no end to the rain drop,

Its influence to eternity - belong.

You wonder - how this might be

And dismiss what I have said

As if you cannot see

But returning to the drop

Rippling on its way

Joining others as its - thru

Others following,

Sent on further each day.

Some may sink into

The earth beneath -

May enter a plant - to life create.

And further still when seasons done

And plant has died or

Retreated to its ground.

Continuing downward

To the aquifer below

If not drawn upon - to return

Renewed thru sprinklers or faucets

To quench a thirst.

Continues ever on -

Ocean side enters - thru the earth.

An ocean drop yet still itself

Moves onward - caress drive.

May encompass the whole earth

From ocean to ocean side.

And some may enter air again - upward

Enter sky and start the cycle

As a drop rippling within my sight.

As the reality of a drop of rain

Reveals itself to me tonight.

Nothing is simple - valueless or

Of no concern.

Thru the power of a flash flood

The littlest drop can return.

Everything has value, is unique in it's

Own way - and never disappears -

Just changing its outer structure

As life goes on today.

- Gayle Darrigan, Hayden

•••

Send us your original poems, prose, essays and anecdotes.

The Press Writers Corner features original, creative writing submitted by our readers. We publish the column most Fridays in the North Idaho Life section of the print edition of The Press.

Send your Writers Corner submissions to Maureen Dolan, [email protected].

We prefer email submissions, and ask that you limit the length of your short stories, essays and poems. Please include your hometown with your submission.

You can send hard-copies by mail to Maureen Dolan at The Press, 201 Second St., Coeur d'Alene, ID 83814.