Early this January, winter paid us a visit
in Southeast Texas, quite cold for southern folk
as you may imagine,
temperatures plunged well below freezing to
some twenty two degrees or less overnight.
Literally landing on our door step
where several large terracotta pots sit on a side porch,
nursing delicate yellow and white pansies
along with purple kale.
Each plant wilted and drooped for days afterwards
and then by some miracle of nature
or divine design
came back, resurrected if you will
as healthy and wholehearted as before.
There was no fear of death
or dying involved
just life calling out to life, life does that you know
life calls to life and in doing so
makes death a terrible liar.
On warmer days you may
often see a squirrel or two
digging in our pots upon the porch,
to deposit or withdraw
some small treasure they have buried there,
cheered on by the local mockingbirds
and our dogs of course.
Who worry so, barking away at the window,
aching in their bones
to rush out the door
and chase their tormentors back up a tree.
Oh, how they do go on
with their antics and agitations.
Death may be long, forever even
or not perhaps,
but life I think is stronger still.
Life is always calling us back to life,
even back from death,
life belongs to life.
Ron Starbuck
Copyright 2010
