mid march

it won't be many days
till the trees
are laden
with leaves

their greenness
lovely

and i, like others,
will be pleased
with birdsong
in the mornings

and the arrival of
crocus
and forsythia

but oh
how i shall miss
the transparency
of scenes

such as these

*There seems to me an “honesty” portrayed by the naked trees of winter. Stripped of their outer coverings, we see both their strength and fragileness with a clarity not seen in summer, spring, or fall.


**This thought leads me to my adventure of last week. I had the privilege of waiting in the surgical waiting room at KU Medical Center while my very dear and close friend Linda Y. underwent a kidney transplant. Linda has been on the transplant list for some time now so this adventure has been anticipated for awhile. However, when the call came, it had the feel of a total surprise.

Surgical waiting rooms, (especially, transplant surgical waiting rooms) have the feel of the “mid march” scenes above. Families sit huddled together, in both strength and fragility, and the arms of their hearts are lifted high. Usually, one stands apart, at least inwardly (the husband, the wife, the father, mother, or maybe a long lost child). The “truth” that we are but mere men is clear.

I’m very happy to report that Linda is doing quite well. She and her husband attribute this precious gift to the hand of God through an unknown fellow traveler.