Thursday, April 18, 2019

Poem in your Pocket Day

Hi Everyone!

Today is "Poem in your Pocket Day."  So... do you have a poem you'd like to keep in you pocket today?  
Below is one I wrote several years ago, and I thought of it because we're baking bread today.
I hope you like it, and maybe you'll put it in your pocket.

Blue wide and thin banded Yellow Ware bowls.


The earthenware bowl
Thick-walled and ample
Wears a wide blue stripe
And sits in a warm nook
Like a well-loved grandma,
Shoulders wrapped,
Gently cradling tomorrow’s bread.

© Karen Eastlund 2013 

Sending you blessings for this holy time...

Friday, April 5, 2019

Spring: Daffodils, bluebell buds & turtles

Spring is here in all its glory!

My daffodils are blooming.  Every year, that first peek of yellow takes my breath away. Who would have guessed, out of the cold drab earth, a bloom so bright and yellow would emerge?

I tried a haiku about daffodils:

Tight yellow buds
Peek shyly – then trumpet
Bold hallelujahs

©Karen Eastlund 2019

We saw a bald eagle.  There are two tiny chicks in its nest, and I’m watching as the parents take turns sheltering and feeding the chicks.  Find it at

On our walk we saw:
Virginia bluebells… they’ll bloom soon, here is a current picture of the tiny purple buds

Great blue heron
Turtles – at least 7… sunning on logs along the canal

Cormorants are on the river, lots of them.  I learned from a passer-by that cormorant’s feathers are not fully waterproof, so they have to dry themselves in the sun.  Here’s what Cornell’s online ornithology page says:
  • Cormorants often stand in the sun with their wings spread out to dry. They have less preen oil than other birds, so their feathers can get soaked rather than shedding water like a duck’s. Though this seems like a problem for a bird that spends its life in water, wet feathers probably make it easier for cormorants to hunt underwater with agility and speed.

Lots of them were sitting on a log in the river, spreading their wings to dry. We saw one dive, and it was down a long time, and came up many yards further up the river.

It was a lovely day to be out. 

Thursday, April 4, 2019


Isn’t it a miracle?  Every year, out of the cold drab earth, somehow life springs forth.  To me spring is one of God’s ineffable mysteries, part of the great cycle of give and take. And every year, there it is, carrying out the drama right before our eyes.

I grew up in the Midwest and lived in Minneapolis for 15 years before moving to New Jersey.  Once I moved to NJ, I became acutely aware of spring. Often in Minneapolis, the winter would last and last until it seemed to turn a corner into summer.  Here, spring begins slowly and lingers. And as it unfolds, it dazzles.

I have come to watch for certain signs of spring. The daffodils outside my front door, the burst of yellow forsythia, the eggs and the tiny fluffball chicks in the eagle’s nest across the river, the wild Virginia bluebells that color the riverbank for a short but glorious time each spring.

Take a look at the eagle nest here... this is coming to you live!  Best in daylight...

Spring is a time of renewal, the time when we celebrate Easter, the triumph over death.  In writing this post I remembered this poem by John Neihardt.  When I was in college I was lucky enough to hear him recite it:

April Theology
O to be breathing and hearing and feeling and seeing!
O the ineffably glorious privilege of being!
All of the World’s lovely girlhood, unfleshed and made spirit,
Broods out in the sunlight this morning — I see it, I hear it!
So read me no text, O my Brothers, and preach me no creeds;
I am busy beholding the glory of God in His deeds!
See! Everywhere buds coming out, blossoms flaming, bees humming!
Glad athletic growers up-reaching, things striving, becoming!
O, I know in my heart, in the sun-quickened, blossoming soul of me.
This something called self is a part, but the world is the whole of me!
I am one with these growers, these singers, these earnest becomers —
Co-heirs of the summer to be and past aeons of summers!
I kneel not nor grovel; no prayer with my lips shall I fashion.
Close-knit in the fabric of things, fused with one common passion —
To go on and become something greater — we growers are one;
None more in the world than a bird and none less than the sun;
But all woven into the glad indivisible Scheme,
God fashioning out in the Finite a part of His dream!
Out here where the world-love is flowing, unfettered, unpriced,
I feel all the depth of the man-soul and girl-heart of Christ!
‘Mid this riot of pink and white flame in this miracle weather,
Soul to soul, merged in one, God and I dream the vast dream together.
We are one in the doing of things that are done and to be;
I am part of my God as a raindrop is part of the sea!
What!  House me my God?  Take me in where no blossoms are blowing?
Roof me in from the blue, wall me in from the green, and wonder of growing?
Parcel out what is already mine, like a vender of staples?
See! Yonder my God burns revealed in the sap-drunken maples!

Praise God for the mystery and beauty of spring, for the ridiculously radiant blooms, for the exuberance and humor of life, and for the promise that we, too, can be renewed.

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Psalm 51:10

As I post this I also want to thank my friend, Margaret, for helping me navigate this maze that is called a blog. I would not have made it this far without her.  Many many thanks!!!

Blessings for this glorious month of April.