Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Heart's Feeder

Sometimes we may wonder, we give so much, try so hard, and yet, a quiet whisper may poke, when it seems we have not made a difference.

The bear was back.  All the feeders were on the ground. One pole was even bent.  The fallen feeders were emptied but the feeders were all intact.  As I cleaned up and tried to restand the feeders, I giggled at the bear, remembering his size, grateful the feeders were intact.

Maybe, I pondered, there is a thread on giving. We give the seeds of our heart and sometimes long to dig them up to see if they are growing.  The seeds belong to others now, their hearts, not ours.  We may only see the bent poles and feeders strewn across the yard.  But the feeders are intact, the bear was fed, and even now I watch the birds feed on a tilted pole, the Pinyon Jay screeching 'oh my what happened here?'  And our thank you comes with the dawn.... we have another day to give.

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Emily Dickinson

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