Empty Nest
Nest of winter
left over from the hot, summer months,
carefully interlaced grasses
rest peacefully against a raftered wall.
This nest that once was the home,
center of life for the young feathered ones
whose songs welcomed sleepy ears each morning
and sang 'good night' echoes to begin each evening.
Now, the silence reigns,
bringing with it the howling, wintry winds,
as the strength of woven grasses awaits
another answered prayer for the warmth and hope
of Spring.
© Jeanne I. Lakatos
by Corrado Giaquinto, circa 1754
One morning, I was inspired by the homily of our local priest, Fr. 'Tim.' He was referring to the Holy Spirit and the Hebrew term for spirit: breath. Hence, I penned the following:
Divine Breath
Enter the Holy chamber; kneel before Divinity,
present on the altar in the form of a simple candle.
Surrounded by a feeling of His welcoming Spirit,
a Blessed breath causes one to inhale:
the Cleansing Air of Love and Forgiveness,
to exhale: the chaos of hate and compromise.
Over and over, this choice is made:
to breathe in the Holy Spirit,
from His Divine Breath: essential to all of humanity,
the salve that soothes the wounded soul.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
© Jeanne Iris Lakatos
Photo taken on my side deck
Autumnal Still: Life
The pine cones, ripped away from their branches,
the wax candle, ready to be lit,
and the sugar pumpkin, tempting small animals
with its sweet nutrition
all rest in silent beauty
as the north wind
releases its fury
upon their stoic forms.
Do they have souls?
They each seem confident
in their positions placed;
so they sit, unknowing
of the possibilities, ready to burst
from hardened structures
that protect their divine essences.
© Jeanne I. Lakatos
