That Bigger Story

Your story does not stand alone.
it is interwoven
with the stories of countless others,
affected by and affecting
the lives of persons you love
and persons you do not even know.
It is, furthermore, a page
in the book of the entire universe.
Name it as such
and dare to claim as your own,
that bigger story.

© 2018 Dennis Ference

Going to See God

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I’m going to Illinois
to see God. Oh, I know
God is right here.
I know that as well as
I know my own name.
But sometimes I need
to have my vision refreshed,
my memory restored.
So I will look into the eyes
of my grandchildren
this weekend–the wonder,
the joy, the promise, the light–
and I will see God.

There is no other place
to meet God but here,
no other time but now.
I know that. Still,
sometimes we all need
to be refreshed.

© 2014 Dennis Ference

A Grandfather’s Musing

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How many times
would I say to them,
“I love you”?
How many times? I wonder
as I lie awake tonight.
Hundreds of times,
thousands, as often as
spring rains thrum the earth?
How many times?

If it would protect them
from all harm; if it would help
them honor themselves
to the end; if it would
exterminate the fears
that crawl under their doors and
ride the drafts that whisper
through their window frames…
I would go for the record,
of that you can be sure.

© 2014 Dennis H. Ference

Life is more than feathers

My eight-year-old granddaughter, Elizabeth, and I were kicking back in her room and riding the drafts of imagination wherever they might fly. As this particular story unfolded, we were sitting next to her small desk and cutting up downy feathers from a craft variety pack of “stuff”. I, regrettably, was big-time antsy, a sciatic nerve challenging me to find a comfortable spot on an uncomfortable, child-sized chair. Nonetheless, I was enjoying the easy banter and the sudden twists and turns that often come when Elizabeth has taken the lead. We were cutting the feathers up into small bits, as I recall, to create a soft garment for the imaginary store we were “hired” to supply.

Well, the bag of feathers was large, and after a while, I thought that maybe we had cut enough for the purpose at hand, but she informed me that wasn’t the case, and so we continued our tedious task. A little later, again I raised the same possibility, plus maybe her room was getting a little messy, fluffy down, by then, flying everywhere I looked. I further threw in the thought that perhaps her parents would be unhappy if we cut up each and every feather she had. Not even bothering to look up at me, Elizabeth continued to cut. Finally, as we just about reached the bottom of the bag, and I had thrown out my last obsessive gambit, the philosopher in Elizabeth announced with thoughtful aplomb, “You know, Papa, life is more than feathers.” Amen, Elizabeth! Amen!

© 2014 Dennis Ference