MS Musings

I've been on Guam now for almost 6 months. Among other things, it's been a time of coming to grips with what having MS means for me right now. Suprisingly, it seems that my musings have taken the form of poems.

The Chief End of Man

If a tree falls

in the forest with no one

to hear, does it

make a sound or

does it simply slip

into oblivion?

If a heron swallows

a fish with no one

to see, does it

hunt the next or

does it simply disappear

over the ocean?

If a child peeks

around a corner with no one

surprised, does she

find another game or

does she simply grow up

like the rest?

If galaxies spangle

the night sky with no one

awestruck, does God

go on creating or

does He simply leave us

to our fate?

Perhaps the old catechism*

had it right. May be we

would do well to spend

less time on answers

and much, much more

with the questions…

* The first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism (1648) was "What is the chief end of man?" The answer was "To love God and enjoy Him forever."

Gardening in MS

I have a dog-eared book

on my shelf. It’s called

Gardening in the Southwest.

My friend Mary has a book

like it. It’s called

Gardening in the Tropics.

My friend Nadine has

one too. It’s called

Gardening in Granite.

Maybe I’ll write a new

book. I think I’ll call it

Gardening in MS.

Some chapters will be the same,

topics most gardeners

already know:

“Gardening in Small Spaces,”

“Gardening in Containers,”

“Gardening in Shade.”

Other chapters will be new,

you might even say

ground-breaking:

“Gardening in Moonlight,”

“Gardening in a Chair,”

“Gardening in Relapse.”

Not many gardeners will need

my book, but those who do

will discover it’s about

dirt under our fingernails

and the sometimes surprising

tenacity of life.