Just like in a cafe, we talk about everything. Nothing heavy. Just talk over a cup of coffee.

Saturday, October 27, 2012


Roots--more complex than that tangled part of an underground plant;
A place to draw from, an essential part of growth;
My beginnings that shaped and nurtured the future me.
When my world feels shaky, as if my roots are being torn away,
And loved ones begin to depart,
I have only to reflect on these golden memories that we call yesterday
The smoothness of a baby's skin;
A wrinkled smile that lights up the room;
Words of wisdom suggested with love;
Sad occasions where prayers are mingled with tears;
Happy holidays where love and laughter and good food abound;

Hands joined in prayer connecting with one another and with God.
And then I know that my roots are secure.
For as a root draws water from the soil,
I, too, can draw strength from that innermost part of my private self
Knowing that my roots are not gone
But are tenderly and lovingly multiplying,
Sending out new growth in the never-ending scheme of life --
Which has perfect order.

Copyright © 2004 Joy Hale

For most of my life, my feelings have poured out of me in poetic fashion. Joys and sorrows, laughter and pain all have had their own unique expressions in poetry. Each poem grows out of the experiences of my life, and whispers to the reader of the insights gained from those experiences.

The poem, "Roots" was written from a deep place in my heart. Several years ago, my father, my stepson and my close childhood friend were all dying of cancer. Cherished parts of my life were coming to an end and I did not know how I could give them up. As I once again turned to writing to deal with my grief, I received word from my daughter that she was expecting my first grandchild. God's plan has always been about beginnings and endings; new roots were being added to our family, and I thanked God that in every season He still sends hope and joy.

Joy Hale
November 2004

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