A Little Poetic Musing
Sharing some thoughts in verse(ish).
Perspective
I sit beneath the Oak
on a breezy summer day –
cloud-puffed sky,
sun through the leaves,
lichen growing on the rain dark tree –
all beautiful to me.
If I’m sitting in a wheelchair,
is the beauty of the moment less?
…Or is it more?
© 2018 Christina Chase
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Christina Chase View All
There once was a cripple…
who wasn't afraid to acknowledge that she was a cripple or to share her life of wonder, struggles, sorrow, and joy with perfect strangers. Here I am.
Join me as I explore the reality of divine love in the flesh, reflecting on what it means to be fully human, fully alive.
My dear friend Charlie and I often sat together under an umbrella of leaves. Before his accident, we never did that, although he may have by himself (he was an artist). The thing is, by our sitting there I learned more about beauty-at-hand than from anything I had read or any museum i had visited. And it wasn’t his words, because we didnt talk much then. It was the way he looked up at the trees, and through them. Soon I would look up too.
About the questions, I can’t speak for Charlie. Nor can I be sure that if he were not in his chair I wouldnt have looked up. But I did see on those occasions. And I don’t always see as well now.
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That’s beautiful, Al, thank you so much for sharing your friend Charlie with me!
My questions were honest questions (I try to only ask those kind) because I don’t really know the answer. I agree with you, though – a change in perspective (even an unwanted change) can sometimes help us to see things a little better.
Here’s to looking up!
Pax Christi
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Beautiful poem!
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