The Flame

On 26 September 1856 the Edmund Ellsworth handcart company arrived in the Salt Lake Valley. My great-great grandparents, John and Ann Bunney were among that group. They left Liverpool, England on the ship ‘Samuel Curling’. All Ann Bunney wrote of this experience is: “I pulled a hand cart by the side of my husband from Iowa City to Salt Lake City.” I have often pondered the commitment and faith exhibited, not only in the Bunneys, but also in numberless ancestors who made choices that affect me today. And then I wonder if I could ever be a person who affects the well-being of generations to follow me. The poem speaks of this, and the painting depicts the ‘Samuel Curling’ leaving Liverpool in 1856.

See it burn so bright and true
A flame within the heart of you,
Ignited many years ago.
See it glow, see it glow.

Perhaps it is refiner’s fire,
Purifying our desire,
Moving us from east to west,
Helping through the hardest test.

Keep it bright, keep it bright,
Lighting up the darkest night.
Pass it on, pass it on,
Hand it down from old to young.

Hold the flame both bright and high
Seen by every human eye.
Let all know by golden glow,
In our hearts, we know, we know.

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My Old Friend Pain

Over the last 3-4 weeks, my back has been quite painful. I finally gave in and went to a physical therapist, who has helped restore mobility and reduce the pain levels to where I can resume my normal activities. It seems that I never really appreciate health until I’m hurt or sick. This poem was written years ago when Bob broke his back. It deals with pain as a warning sign. I am wondering how people deal with chronic pain, day after day, year after year.

MY OLD FRIEND PAIN

Each day I live you come to me,
Almost always by surprise.
You have no thought of decency,
From my tip-toes to my eyes.
Sometimes you stay just a little while,
Other times you stay too long.
And when you do, you sing to me, a very painful song.
But, dear old friend, thank God for you,
For without your warning signs,
I would not know and could not know
Those injuries of mine.
And I would probably bleed to death,
Or something just as bad,
If you weren’t there to counsel me
By helping me feel bad.
So, my dear friend, thank God for you
Just one more time.
‘Cause when you’re gone, and I feel good,
That feeling is sublime!

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When Death Calls

Last week a woman from our neighborhood died in a pedestrian accident. It seems that Death is one of those somber events that causes us to search deeply to know and understand. In response to this event, we penned this poem:

WHEN DEATH CALLS

When death calls a loved one beyond this mortal veil
Is it somewhat like a prisoner, who is released from jail?
Or like a caterpillar chrysalis, who becomes a butterfly?
Is death that great adventure beyond the human eye?

We see our Great Spirit’s promise on all land, sky, and in sea
From the smallest living thing, to the tallest living tree
From wood that changes into smoke and flows up in the sky
To the rebirth of the forests as spring gladdens heart and eye.

When a death takes a loved one, great sorrow fills our heart.
We must mourn with those who mourn; in this way, we do our part.
The Master of creation loves and cares for every soul
From each child held in death’s sleep, to us who live and grow.

From each new dawn unto every eve, hope blooms eternally.
We each have senses beyond our sight, where hope and faith grow free.
May we have eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to understand
Resurrection’s miracles, for each child in God’s wondrous plan.

From the Son unto this glorious earth, light flows eternally
Through the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, we can fly forever free.

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What are some of your thoughts?

Handprints

So this is what we choose to use as our first post, because family and children are so very important to us..we wrote this when our children were leaving their babyhood stage, and weren’t sure we liked that.  It is called–

 

Handprints on the Glass

 

why is it