Stars from a peaceful, darkened sky

Iowa grows so much without trying.

Look beyond the fields green with life

Dusty brown with harvest

Black with Spring’s potential.

Look within the silos that mark

The efforts and tears of families

And you will find seeds of hope

That promise another year of home.

Friendships in Iowa grow fast and strong.

Small towns know this by heart.

The seeds of laughter and comfort as children

Stay with you long after you leave.

The rhythm of cicadas that is

The heartbeat of an August night.

Lightening Bugs that remind you of

Stars from a peaceful, darkened sky.

When the winds of change blow some

Of us to other places that still think Iowa is

About Potatoes, we politely correct them,

And speak proudly of our land, again.

_____________________________________

orn b.

Fire Would

When I think of all the passions within us.

Emotions locked inside collective humanity,

It’s like firewood stacked high by the cord.

Unsure of its natural use.

We block doors open with the small pieces.

Tripping as we enter rooms dark and scary.

Hoping to catch the hallway light to our beds.

As if to chase away the ghosts of our mistakes.

We sometimes hit each other (in unfathomable rage)

With the ones that are shaped like bats.

Cursing the splinters in our palms

When the conflicts we start, at last, end.

If left too long unattended,

Termites and spiders take nest in the pile,

And we never use those pieces again,

Fearing we might get bit by neglect and decay.

Yet, when it is so cold in our world that we can see our breath,

(But can no longer reach for each other),

We still remember how to stay warm.

What it takes to survive the bitter nights alone.

We stare into the flames that come from us and to us,

While pondering on what will keep us human.

What will slay our hatreds, and return us to Eden?

Fire would.

________________________________________ 

orn b.

28 June 2018

A Silent Thanks

 An eagle named Eddie

And a turkey called Tom

Called each other brother,

“just from another mom”.

They laughed and played as children do

Each day and every night.

Tom grew big and ruled the ground,

Eddie, was king of flight.

They knew the worth of freedom,

The cost that kept it true.

They shared ideas of what it meant

And of what they had to do.

Tom said, “Freedom should never starve,

And I have all this meat.”

“I will give my life for this,

So all free men can eat.”

Eddie said, “My sight is sharp.”

My beak and talons strong.

I can soar above the land,

Protecting it from wrong.

Eddie and Tom then said goodbye.

Tom’s life was soon to end.

His sacrifice, his bond, his word

Was all that he could send.

Eddie symbolized strength and hope.

Our freedoms he’ll defend.

But he always gives a silent thanks

To Tom, his steadfast friend.

_______________________________________

Sacrifice, when freely given for the good of the many,

Shall always be held as the most courageous

In the ledgers of Heaven.

orn b.

27 June 2018

Gardening Thoughts

Is there a human being among us

That has not harvested some fresh toe fungus?

I think of how my feet might look

If I scrub them clean (all crack and nook).

I could be proud of my sparkling toes,

Except for the corns that grow in rows.

I pray my foot-shame soon will pass,

And hide them in the soft crabgrass.

The grass is cool, and doesn’t judge

My nails that look like rancid fudge.

I’ll stop for now, I get the hint…

Don’t start me on my belly-lint.

_____________________________________

orn b.

26 June 2018