The Red Brick Courtyard

(By: Janet Leadbeater)

The courtyard was red;

the bricks, the tree in the middle, it's leaves

The walls all about me, the way, everything.

It was all red.

I stood in the middle;

holding a red leaf in my hand 

and watched the wind slip it from my grasp.

I watched it fly on the wind.

I mourned its passing;

and all together my hands felt empty.

I watched as the wind stirred up the leaves.

then I moved one foot in front of the other

I watched as the red blew beyond me

The striking color touched my senses. 

The wind blew up my brown curls,

and the red brick remained

Red leaves, Red brick, Red life

It all surrounded, but refused to touch me.

alone, alone in the courtyard

There I stood in awe of its beauty.

Warm Soup and Love

Her chubby hands held the pencil with strength and precision. She looked down on her piece of artwork with such concentration as would be a grown adult. The flower was long stemmed and stout in its petals that it seemed too tall for the bloom but it still looked beautiful.There is something so innocent in the drawings of a child. the clouds, the sun, the uneven grass all portray an ideal world through the eyes of innocence. The butterfly with its unrealistically round wings flew in the air of the parchment and made me smile. She created a beautiful and childlike world that gave me peace and I stared in wonder as she created it before me

Once she was done she folded the sheet of paper in half and handed it to me, "It's for you!" she said. She was so proud. I gleamed with excitement, "Really?! It's beautiful! thank you Winni." Her chubby cheeks produced two little dimples as her bright eyes smiled up at me. She turned to her sister and said something in Mandarin. Her sister came and they began to play games with the crayons. This is a small world in which I can find peace and solace from the world. In this place I felt safe from all the hurts the world created. It is in the innocence of her drawings, the laughing and foreign language in the background and the delicious food to fill my stomach that I feel a surrogate sense of a family. Sometimes it is in the small warm touch of a child's fingers clinging to my own that give me peace. It's the love behind the act. It is the intent of the heart. I love the warmth of this families heart.

My day was pretty bad. I went to my favorite restaurant to escape and I was graced with the presence of a Chinese family that I visit entirely TO much! But they don't mind :) The kids sat around me coloring, laughing and cutting bats out preparing for Halloween as I ate dinner. Their mom came to the table with their snack which was a red bean soup that tasted sweet with a fungus in it called tremella fuciformis that lent the sweet flavor. She asked me if I wanted some and of course I said yes! It definitely is not a dish that would be on the menu. haha! She brought it to me and it was 2 things.

1. It was delicious!
2. It was definitely different

I knew in that moment as I sat with the children as their parents worked back in the kitchen and we ate the soup that I was home. It doesn't make sense, and I suppose it isn't meant to be. However, as I sat there reflecting on my life and the incidents there of I knew that God had sent me a gift. He sent me a family that I could cuddle up next to and laugh with, play games with and eat a foreign food with. I was comforted and after a long hard day, I felt warmer and willing to leave the restaurant to face life again head on.

The Fall

Have you ever just watched the world of grass in the fall? It is a wonderful and rather exquisite thing to behold. Warmth soaks into the damp earth, the green contrast teases the scarf of orange leaves that daintily cover the green. Green and Orange winged insects playfully dance from blade to blade. They, camouflaged seem unreal and hidden until like a ghost, glide to one spot from another. How beautiful it is to see

The leaves whisper from the canopy, preparing and sharing secrets of their age old traditions. The time would soon come where silence would fill the nakedness of winter and their whispers would cease. But for now they were content to shed themselves of the past year and transition into sleep, the deepest of sleeps. How comforting it must be to be wrapped in layers of life that only man can cut down. What a comfort indeed.

But for now the grass is alive and well. Living on the bed of life it lets life itself flourish. The squirrel nervously twitches as its instincts give it the clear to run across the green. It's poofy tail sways with life flirtatiously as it hops towards its goal. Brown and boisterous, its curiosity leads it. Yes, the green is alive indeed.

But it is fall and like all falls it must come to an end. The dark sets in and the chill of winter presses against your skin. The only hope that gives you strength to endure is the promise of spring. And so, I pull my scarf closer around my shoulders. I sway from one foot to the other. My reverie comes to an end when I remember that we met in the fall and we loved through the winter but in the spring comes the final and most beautiful ending. With a warm heart I realized that it was the fall I never expected. Gathering myself I smile, take in a deep and cool breath and head inside to the hustle and bustle of life.

Clipped Wings

The garden was an oasis

She sat in silence like a statue

breathing in the essence

like perfume to the senses

the bird bath full of life

water flying all around

birds wings flapping 

It was exquisite in its sounds

She sat in the grass

green, lush and cool

droplets from the bird bath

like aloe soothed her soul

but one bird on the grass

hopping up and down

wings spread open

could not fly around

She watched confused

while pity gripped her heart

she arose and gently picked up the bird

and there she saw the absurd

clipped wings

the bird could not fly

as good as dead

this bird was sentenced to die

his voice rang through the garden

like a thunder storm it shook her reverie

gripping the bird protectively
she turned and instantly perceived

clipped wings

what a painful place to be

wishing to fly

but only touching the cement

never to be free

His Bluff

His red playing cards in hand

My own in position

they stood in stark contrast

the many options i thought I had

His shades hid his brown eyes

I didn't care to conceal mine

it was a one sided mirror

his eyes, mine ready to fight

we sat in silence 

me in tense anticipation

the moment would come

when we would both know 

unspoken words but emotions high

I let it all slide

I was confident with chance

the red cards they never lie

defiant till the end 

I wanted to call his bluff

i took a deep breath

his voice filled the air

he called it

my nerves stretched taut 

I felt unprepared and bare

I wanted the control

i tapped my fingers against the cold cards

staring at his hidden eyes i glared

nervous and warm i laid them down

and silence filled the quiet room

he didn't twitch 

he laid his cards down

the cold wooden table 

what a long fall 

and there they were

his losing cards

I felt triumphant

but I knew inside that he let me win