Warmth and Rain

… traveling again with unpredictable web connectivity and a full schedule… my blogging activity will be sporadic for the next few days …

Warmth and Rain

A carpet of rain greets me
in  the land of the rising sun,
soft as the smiles of women in kimonos,
gentle as their tread in silken slippers,
and my harried heart unravels
from the origami
of purple cranes —

dusk arrives in a myopic mist,
as the aircraft lifts me to the sky,
I watch infinite shades of blue
darken to indigo,
and the rain comes again to meet me
on the tarmac
in Manila —

late afternoon among the clouds,
descending slowly
upon these emerald islands,
the warmth surrounds me,
bare feet await
to walk through my familiar places
once again.

By D. G. V. © 2012

Chestnuts in Kowloon

Chestnuts in Kowloon

I have been to the Fragrant Harbor
far away,
where the people sounded like rain
upon the cobblestones,
and their laughter I called my own,
for once, for a little while
I was there

with you as we walked
past market stalls with the cackle
of hagglers
and scents of sesame and jasmine
filled the air,
we climbed tall buildings
and the peak of a mountain,
I was there

with you as we crossed the harbor
along with salt and seaweed,
by noon we reached Kowloon
famished,
and we shared a paper bag
filled with roasted chestnuts:
there by the lotus pond,
the moist white warmth and our dreams
fed our nameless hunger —

now the Fragrant Harbor awaits
far away,
but I am no longer there,
save the shriveled husks of chestnuts
we threw away so long ago
that for once, for a little while
burned among the coals.

by D. G. V. © 2012

Last Days of Summer


Last Days of Summer

Lemon scents linger
from blooms of white magnolia,
while a cool breeze tiptoes,
donned in ornate lace
into a summer dusk cathedral:
I hear the mellow sound of shaken leaves
upon their sun-tanned branches,
harp strings stroked by fingers
of the wind —

The purple grosbeak’s song endures
into the night,
nectared notes delight
as I revel in these ardent days
of crimson apples,
the primrose pulp of aubergine plums,
the musk-white fragrance of orange
blossoms,
the golden cloak of summer’s warmth
upon the vibrant flowers.

by D. G. V. © 2012

** photography by Roman Niku

The Tea Cup of Today

“This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”  Psalm 118:24

 In the midst of a frenzied afternoon at work today, I paused to read an email from my daughter Amy:

“I’ve been thinking about this quote a lot lately:  “This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”  The last two words, “in it”, are what have me thinking. The phrase makes it seem like it’s a special place – a porcelain cup, specially made, specially prepared – to rejoice, to revel, to live fully in — when you are in something like a cup of tea, surrounded.”

Any given second, any given breath, we are within the walls of a day. We can’t see tomorrow – and so we can only treat it with what we can’t see – with hope (but how great is our hope when we think about Jesus)? We see only today, and our hands, and our feet, and our loved ones, and whatever else God has given us for today. “

What Amy wanted to tell me is that today is not only a special time, but a unique and wondrous place designed by God for us to live and breathe in.

The porcelain tea cup of today.

I smile at the thought of today and of pink porcelain cups.

by D. G. V.

*** Author’s Note: this link leads to a poem I wrote for my daughter Amy.