Evasive

Today, this morning, I have been sitting fighting with technology to find a "pretty enough" background to print an invitation on, an invitation to a new year's day open house at our house, in our warm and wonderful home here in Collingwood.

It is snowing lightly outside and I have just finished reading an article on teen homelessness in our small town,  a new comer family has just arrived in our small town from a refugee camp many worlds away.

I am trying to find a nice wallpaper background for this invitation, so that I can send it and I am becoming, have become frustrated and decided that I will just send out an email, without a beautiful background.  

It is snowing lightly outside and I am sitting in my kitchen at the table, looking at our advent wreath, we have lit the second advent candle, we have read poetry and sung songs of peace.

I am going to send out an email to invite friends and neighbours and others who may come along to our open house, and yesterday I made chocolate cookies, haystacks some call them.

It is snowing lightly outside, I love the snow, I will put on my boots and my mitts and my hat and my snowpants to go for a walk,  and look at the beauty of this town of mine.

When I come back I will turn up the fireplace,  nice and cozy to take of the chill of the walk, while there are teens and others who are homeless, we are having an open house, the invitation says all are welcome.

It is snowing lightly outside and I celebrate the light of hope and now the light of peace and I long to follow Mother Theresa's lead to do small things with great love    and the how is, I find evasive!

gkn, Dec. 2018

Windows

Snowflakes fall to the ground,
excitement builds, anticipate
forts and balls flying through the air,
families all in a row.
flames dance inside glass,
seated wonder near by,
cozy amidst
waiting season of dark.
a manuscript revised again,
excitement builds, anticipation of
editor with words flying through the air,
creations all in a row.
lights shine through
the darkness, seeking.

gkn 2018

Journey Home

For Nelle Morton

snow covered woods,
move seamlessly past my window
as the whistle blows,
warning those driving through fields
of unharvested corn we are coming,

bringing memories of the
train that killed Ervin and Ronnie and ...
in the farmlands of my youth,

like these farmlands, yet different,
less treed, further south,  painted red barns,
and cows in fields,    

unmarked crossings less frequent now,
from daughter to daughter I
travel, a spa day of pleasure, conversation...

wishing their were more
to complete the circuit of  grandchild's
delight       running into my arms,
kicking snow banks, and ice pellets
on the way.

gkn Novemeber 2018

Calling forth hope

dedicated to daughters  

My eldest daughter Lora called this morning, excited about the women doing theology conference she was attending.  At AMBS ( Anabaptist Mennonite  Biblical Seminary),  she said I am wearing a Mennonite Church USA badge.  

She knew this was movement,  I know this is movement.

She said this conference is sanctioned supported even by Mennonite Church USA.  She was excited that she could be there, that it was happening.

She said she was happy for me ( she knows my history well)  and she wished I could be there,  and so the worm turns round and round ...

I am delighted for my daughter that she has found a place, and a home to share her spiritual gifts.

I trust my daughter,
and I marvel at her faith, and the faith of the Lydia's and the Svinda's  and the Marilyn's, who are there, who are  working, faithful to their calls, to the work of their souls within the institutional church.

AND I pray that they and others will be saved from pain and hurt by power brokers lacking faith, living in fear rather than love,

and today again I celebrate the hope carriers in the world.

Those who face principalities and powers and speak out and listen to the call on there lives.

Those who  honour their call,
who honour  another's  call.

Who dare to say this is my call, this is my hope, this is my vision.
I will move forward.

They are hope bearers for us all, whether it be in the church, or in the gov't, in the home or in the academic institution, or the non profit sector or in the medical world

where ever they find themselves

I give thanks for the hope gifted to the world by presence and action.

gkn  November 2018

Almost Everything

with thanks to Anne Lamont


a dog coming into a life,
a baby being born, the garden being tended,
an election, a war,

told and retold,
sorrow, or hatred, or love,

begins with a story

 poets, and sages,
and painters and novelist,
and you or me

passed on by readers, and writers
and collaborators, interpreting,

imagining

almost every story can be designed,
to bring hope.

gkn November 2018

Eleven Years -- for mom

Grandchildren have been born,
divorces, weddings, fires, new homes,
and jobs, wars and rumours,
faith lost and found.


No longer does the phone ring,
no longer do you bake the cakes,
or the pies  --- this morning there is a
dutch apple pie in the oven.


It is I who must welcome the stranger,
It is I who must show hospitality.
Oh, how you must love that Lora's
church is doing a "welcoming strangers" series.


It is I who now sends prayers
to the grandchildren and the children,
to the world leaders, to the people
I pass on the street.


It is I to who lives with the truth
you taught, "to whom much is given
much is required."  Life is
an opportunity for sharing.


I give thanks for  your presence,
As I peel apples,
as I read the paper,
as your eyes gaze into mine

Your death mom changed me.


gkn October  30 2018

Living White

On Saturday, we went with grandchildren
to a concert, we danced, we clapped, we sang
while others went to the synagogue
to worship and died

while I had a pedicure from a
two year old, played with a dog and his boys,
and celebrated a fifteen year old
black youth were shot dead

a new town council was elected,
I celebrated hopeful progressive, perhaps,
politics, while in Brazil a right
wing politician becomes president

we talked this morning, Jane and I
about hope and despair about change
possibilities, about lowered minimum
wages, and the loss of sick days

our refugee ancestors

history.

gkn, 2018

An Autumn Day

Through willows
weeping seed pods
wind blows

resistance.

Through leaves
red, yellow, orange
sun shines

hope.

Geese honking
overhead V's
formation

engaged.

Waves crash
white caps
surface

revelation.

Child's laughter, sly
grins, twinkling
eyes

live.

gkn October 2018

Reflections today

With thanks to Sheila

I have three daughters born in the seventies and eighties.  I was born in the fifties.  My mother in the thirties and the list goes on.   In each generation we have been blessed with individuals who have spoken out against the abuse of power.  

In my history,  Jesus was often used as a model of speaking truth to power.

I live in Canada.   I live a life of great privilege.
I have been hurt by the abuse of power.

Some of the abusers used Jesus name to abuse.

Today I am struggling to find hope.
Today I wonder why we are still arguing about how much abuse is ok?

I went for a walk with Andre.

I saw my neighbor, my friend,  I spoke of pain and fear.  We shared feelings of despair, discouragement.  

Then she said, " and what is good in your world today?"

It was a good question for this day.
It is a good question for everyday.

and so I ask what is good in your world today...

and I give thanks for you my readers, my friends, my allies on this journey.

I give thanks for the many of you who are encouraging me as I work on my memoir.
I give thanks for the beauty of the nature that surrounds me and for the wonderful fresh tomato I picked off the vine and ate a few minutes ago.
I give thanks for the many voices, the many people of all genders,  that name truth to power.

and I walk and I meditate and I pray and I write with  hope filled love.



gkn  September 2018

everything i needed to learn -- repeat

thank you Zeb! 


I love                                                           grade one

              voice                 eyes                      sparkle


the best part
                                                                   four recesses

                                                   free play time
creativity
                        imagination

 music                                           silence

                         laughter
                                                                dance
     
                                  ......



gkn  September 2018




             
         

Minds Currency

roses in full bloom,  water lapping on shore,  
satin sheets, tea pots steam, penny at my feet

bleeding president, falling tower, child on a beach,
rooftops of water, mudslides, dead buildings

muscles stretched,  massaged, aching desire
movement,  roots and rocks,  waterfalls

grieving family gathered, stories unravel
colour, ability, gender   confused

green blue dive,  naked body, slippery
sunborn algae growth

another protest, world
breathing fear

in out in out in out
in        out            in             out

equinox return.


gkn September 2018

Recipe

"Do you want to know the recipe for courage?" he asked,
"gg do you want to know the recipe for courage?"  he repeated

"Of course"    "Do you know the recipe?"


"Yes"


"Who gave you the recipe?"

"I found it in my body."

"Please tell me the recipe, sometimes, I need courage too."

"You do?"

 His requirements for courage where very high these early days of junior kindergarten,
a brief discussion ensued about my needs and mama's needs and dadda's needs for courage...

then only then did I get the recipe

"you take all your feelings gg"

eyes focused on mine

" All your feelings in your body"  (in case I missed it)

" and mix it with love"

and that he concluded

"makes courage."



gkn September 2018

Wordless

Lora turned forty today.
How did it happen
so quickly?

gkn Sept.6 2018

For Ever, Lora

 I first looked at her beautiful face and was filled with wonder and fear.  
What now?    Forever, I thought.

I had taken lamaze classes, how to give birth painlessly.
how to breathe,  focus on something, they said.      I had taken a small picture of Jesus.  
I had given birth, while not painlessly, at least drug free.
          It was important, I thought.

I held her to my breast, forcing her little mouth to hang on.
Come on, you can do it.
The nurse offered me formula,  said that I could give her that if she cried,  
a soother, bottles with water in it, sweetened slightly.

I had not taken classes on what you do after the baby is born.  This precious,  helpless being a wonder, with ten little fingers and ten little toes  was my first born.  

We took classes together.

We learned how to make it through the hours, of the evening,  when sleep would not come to either of us, and when I knew it was not ok to breast feed constantly.

Racing heartbeats, love, overwhelmed me.  
I held her in my arms.  I watched her take her first steps, and kiss her spring horse gently on the lips.
She  touched my belly to feel her sisters early kicks.

I remember it so well.   That day, we sat in the bathtub together, flesh pressed against flesh.
I felt it she said with excitement,
I felt the baby,
she lay back against me.  
Shifting oh so gently in that too full bathtub,  she put her hand on my belly.

We shared some days last week, in anticipation of her turning forty.  
We walked and we talked and we ate and we laughed.  
It was the first time she left her, oh so precious,  two year old for so many sleeps.  

I touched her belly when he kicked.

gkn August 2018

Saturday night

early morning swim
before  scones were baked or
 guests awoke.

past bedtime now
dinner made and eaten,
guest asleep.

mind wanders over
days events memory filled
joy and sorrow.

the day has cooled
the air, the water, wind
voices call.

longing for sleep
arise with pen and paper
story filled.



 gkn July 2018

Wally

Salt water mist covers tears,
walking hundreds of miles away,
as goodbyes are said
to a companion driven by anxiety

love a multifaceted
wash on the shore prescence
felt, abscence known,
memories carried still

the child comforted by a
pillow body, a lick
a nuzzle, a paw pushing
protecting, giggles

an adult at home with
non judgemental companionship
walking around ponds
waves wash onto shores

gifts received, taken,
understanding lacking shells
crack enjoying fresh
seafood still grief.

gkn July 2018

Gratitude

 Sunbeams crowd my computer screen,

bird song woke me this morning

this afternoon we will pick up two beloved

grandsons to share the week with us.

I finished reading “a Small Country” last night

a story of genocide, of war, of life,

yesterday I walked in a meadow, 

cycled on roads and  trails.

The labyrinth, last week filled with solstice celebrants,

invites me into its colourful bounty, I walk, I weed,

I breath,  I sit and eat

the colours of the rainbow surround me.

The Chai tea blend brought back from Nepal

by a neighbour, sister, friend warms me body and soul,

 hearing a cat call, as a dog lays close by,

my beloveds awake, asleep.

Soon I will walk to the Bay, listen to the waves,

feel the cool breeze,   knowing that 

“ I do not have to be good,

I only have to let the soft animal of my body love

what it loves.” 

So blessed am I!

gloria kropf nafziger June 26, 2018

quote adapted from Mary Oliver  in Wild Geese

For Resa

Another story of a child or children separated from parents, of tears streaming

no comfort,  ever the optimist  my friend on facebook offers hope.

I am reading Forgiveness selected for Canada reads. 

I talk to friends, celebrate anniversaries, birthdays,  picnic by the Bay.

Listen to small voices across phone lines telling me about dinosaur bones and maman’s graduation,  wrap my arms through  the lines until I can feel their hearts beating against mine. 

I cycle to the Bay,  jump in feeling the cool waters washing over sorrow. 

I sit on the porch and discuss letters to write to Prime Ministers,  donations to be made to law societies.

Sitting in the labyrinth pulling grasses out by the roots,  careful not to disturb the tiny seedling, remember planting his placenta there,  such tiny little people, so innocent, so loved, so hurting.

I read poetry written by a friend, by a stranger,  known and unknown by another,

soul soothing,  grateful for a friend ever the optimist who inspires me.

gloria kropf nafziger June 2018

Movement

When I swim waves lap,

over shoulders

love blossoms heart opens.

When I dance energy flows,

through body

 love blossoms hearts open.

When I jump earth shakes,

excitements felt

love blossoms heart opens.

When I twirl stars move,

focus calls

love blossoms hearts open.

When I skip play enters,

laughters greeting

love blossoms heart opens.

When I walk birds sing,

leg lifts

love blossoms  hearts open.

When I breathe

love blossoms heart opens

gloria kropf nafziger June 2018

Awake

Today I awoke

to the babbling delighted sounds of my granddaughter’s voice and her smile, to my daughter’s admonition to stop reading the news, to her advising me that there were two good news events,  Linda Mae Lindo won in her riding and Mike Schreiner won in Guelph, she said that’s all I needed to know.  

We think the same in the political arena, my daughter and I.      I told my son-in-law that I did not look at facebook, as my friends were a very biased lot,  so biased he asked that I did not see this coming?    No, not quite I acknowledged. 

Then I was greeted by my grandson, eyes sparkling,  he woke up before I left.  We were both delighted.  

I went for breakfast with my dear sister, cousin, friend,  we had a wonderful visit and did not discuss the election.   There were many conversations that we wanted to have, many joys to share. 

It was time to drive home to Collingwood,  but first a stop at the bookstore to buy a birthday present for another grandson, and texts with his mama to make sure he did not have the book, I chose. 

On the drive home,  I listened as I often do to CBC, they had a two hour phone in show about the election, titled is this what you wanted.    I heard voice after voice ,  from people who voted green, who voted liberal, who voted conservative, who voted ndp say, it was not what they wanted.  I heard one voice say he was delighted and he danced with  joy. 

Then I heard an interview that stayed with me, as I arrived home, as I mowed the lawn, as I delighted in the blooms in the labyrinth, in the shade bed, in the rose bed, as I moaned as I saw the kale was completely gone, eaten from the vegetable bed. 

I heard an interview with someone who won a seat.   This politician said.   I do not want to pull people down,  I have no interest in negating another.  I want to work together to build Ontario up.   I want us to build Ontario up together.   This person had positive hopeful things to say about politicians and parties. 

I was inspired.

I know about working together to build each other up across difference.    My family members know how to do that.  Many of my friends and neighbours know how to do that. 

I experienced that over and over again on the Camino as people gave me helpful suggestions to make my walk easier or to support me when they saw I was wearing down.   We did not know our differences at that moment we only knew our need for a helping hand. 

I believe if we can build one another up individually we can do it communally.    

I was inspired by that phone interview, and I commit myself with you as my witness to work to build a better world  in ways that I am able and called to,  and I am soooo very grateful it is not in politics …

Will you join me??

And I  give thanks and send blessings to  politicians many,  who care deeply and sacrifice  to make the world a better place.

Gkn June 8, 2018