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“I’ll Figure it Out!”

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Delight comes
in ever so many ways!
Years ago a college student called.
“Could you use some harvest help?”
Indeed I could, so I invited the young man out.
 
On the farm he was in his element.
‘Can do!” was his aim.
He did!  Expeditiously with a smile!
In the field or at our table
he was a pleasure to be around.
And we worked.
Hard.
Long.
Til harvest was complete.
 
As planned, he graduated…
and commended his younger brother for the job.
Hired him too.
Like his brother
a ‘Can do’ person.
Driving trucks, tractors, the combine, mowers…
whatever
Did the jobs with aplomb!
He was a pleasure to be around!
In the field or at our table.
As planned, he too graduated and was gone.
 
Two decades passed,
and I got a call.
“Could you use some harvest help?
My dad and my uncle worked for you,
and thought you might need a hand with harvest.”
This one had a special comment,
when I gave him instructions on what needed done
and it was new to him:
“I’ll figure it out!”
Determination, crystal clear on his face.
What an attitude!  I loved it!
First thought, ‘That’s the American Farmer!”
Whatever the challenge:
“I’ll figure it out!’
We have!  We do!  We will!
Second thought: ‘That’s the American way!”
From the founding fathers and mothers on
America has done that, does that, and will do that!
 
Governor Lee Sherman Dreyfuss figured it out.
A history prof, he reflected on our short history,
and the history of the world.
He believed an Invisible Hand, has been upon us,
and he stated his case well.
 
George Washington Carver
‘figured it out’.
Studied the Bible and concluded:
‘There’s more to the peanut than we’ve discovered.’
He discovered, and discovered, and discovered.
 
Adam Smith, philosopher,
thought long and hard and made his notes.
Sat himself down, and in 1776
‘figured it out’.
Freedom, capitalism, and the wealth of nations…
America
‘figured it out’
 
The Hand, the Word, the mind in freedom
the attitude
and we, indeed, can
‘figure it out!’
 
Lin 10/2013  Kendall Phelps 
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By |November 12th, 2014|Categories: All Poems, Heaven & Earth|0 Comments

The Last 500 Feet

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As a runner
I’ve been there:
that last 500 feet
The finish line to cross
 
Yes, the race matters
all of the way
The hills, the straight aways
the curves we can’t see around
yet there’s something about
that last 500 feet
and the line we need to cross
 
A year of planting, tending,
then harvesting
gets to that last 500 feet
The last rabbits, pheasants
are there to help
as the last rows are devoured
processed
into the chosen kernals and seeds
that hold the valued foods
 
The finish line
that needs to be crossed!
Like a journey across the vast Pacific
that ends at a specific dock
where a gang plank goes down
and connects with the land
 
Like the long long flight
the landing, the connection
and then the cabin door is opened
and fresh air rushes in
and used air rushes out
And like the journey through classes
papers and exams
and more classes
til finally, finally,
one crosses a stage
and a diploma is in our hands
the last 500 feet
to a diploma…
 
Some 32,000 days, on average,
pass from first breath, first suck
to the last 500 feet
and our last lay down
No more mountains to climb
no more rivers to cross
just 500 feet to cross
to the finish line
 
A final planting
marked with a stone
a peaceful spot
where loved ones can come
reflect
on the journey, however long,
and then
the last 500 feet…to heaven
 
lin, harvest, 2013 
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By |November 12th, 2014|Categories: All Poems, Seasons|0 Comments

Butterfly World

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A friend stopped by
the other day
Business on his mind
We sauntered to the backyard
a retreat environ
to set n talk a bit
 
Settling back, he observed:
This sure is a peaceful place!
Patio surrounded
trees and shrubs and flowers
Blue sky, white clouds
shades of greens and splashed of flowering plants
far from the din of the world
 
It’s a butterfly place, you see
They come, to flit about
and rest
Background sounds are wrens
several families call this home
their songs of greetings abound
as do the tiny Finches
adding to the splashes of color
Doves rest heavily under the feeders
happy to coo about, mourning
and Robins chirp their tunes
a symphony of sounds
abetted with colors
clouds moving lazily
flowers and leaves waving
fluttering sometimes
as do the butterflies
birds
It’s a created place
combinations put in place
by the Lady of the House
the Lady of the farm
Master, indeed, Gardener!
 
Creates a place for separation
creation
inspiration
 
Come sit with us sometime
rest yourself
and soak it in
 
Selah,
Lin 7/2013 
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By |November 12th, 2014|Categories: All Poems, Heaven & Earth|0 Comments

Threads to Tapestries

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Thoughts can often be threads
opportunities alone
happening but needing friends
 
Alone they reach out
but can’t survive
going further and further
until they disappear
 
But joining with others
they become a cloth
offering great things
Think sails on great ships
think uniforms on a million soldiers
Think warm blankets in a cold world
or suits and dresses for kings and queens
or denim for the workers
who show up, and carry the world
 
Together they can become
a tapestry
portraying mighty deeds
encouraging others to carry on
 
Here’s to those who create the threads
that bind us
becoming a cord of many strands
that cannot be broken….
 
Lin 7/3013 
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By |November 12th, 2014|Categories: All Poems, Heaven & Earth|0 Comments

Corn Talk

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No, I’m not slipping away!
I just do my best to tune in…
to ‘think like corn’ along the way.
 
So there’s a ‘pop’ in early summer
when corn pops its spike up through earth
to greet the sun and me.
One day the field is just rich and black
and next day a million spikes are there
having popped up to greet the sun and me
 
Next there’s a scramble
as it grows as fast as can be
the race is on to canopy
cover the earth with green
capture all the sunlight possible
 
Ah, corn talk happens!
Chest high and higher
with maximum growth conditions
between the joints on the stalks
some summer evenings it happens:
A soft popping noise!
A million plants are growing,
reaching
and at the nodes the leaves unfurl
growing so fast there is a noise!
 
Add to that to soft rustle of leaves waving
summer breezed blowing
almost like a green ocean surf
one can see the wind waves
So soon the plant is finished
and the green turns to tan
Sun tanned?
The tone changes
and brittle leaves speak
Harvest!  Harvest!
 
In an instant it’s over
as the harvester roars along
grabbing the stalks and jerking down
32 feet per second
one fourth of a second
and the stalk is on the ground
crushed
and the ears are in the combine
 
The sound of corn pouring
from the combine to a truck
from the truck into a grate
and the harvest goes to processors
 
The Creator through the earth, creation,
has blessed us
with food, fiber, fuel
that we may live
abundantly
 
Lin, at corn popping stage, 7/2013 
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By |November 12th, 2014|Categories: All Poems, Seasons|0 Comments

Fog

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Something about the fog
that quiets the cattle
me
the world
 
A fine white mesh
shrouding the earth
closing us in
together
 
We move more slowly
me
the cars
the ships
nosing our ways
on quiet
 
Slow down earth
it seems to say
you’ve been hurrying
much too much!
Peace, now,
murmur to each other
hold off on shout and push
and race to nowhere
Up there somewhere
the sun is burning
all powerful, to be sure
it will burn away the curtain
turn up the heat, the pace
and we’ll all be back at it…
 
Shhhhhhhhhhhh….
 
Did you hear the low
Moooooooooo?
The lazy fog horn?
Go ahead!
Mutter it long and low
and quietly…..
 
Lin 7/2013 
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By |November 12th, 2014|Categories: All Poems, Heaven & Earth|0 Comments

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