Judy at her May 21 book party holding two new books, Political Peaches and Grace: A China Diary, 1910-16.
Photo by Johnsie Tipton.
***
Those Eternally Linked Lives 14 May 28, 2017
The peas are nearly finished. I pick
beet leaves, half-grown lettuce,
two firm bright green peppers, fronds
of lemon balm and peppermint for
tea. The hens gave me seven eggs.
Sun again after so much rain brings
out tiny bumps that will be figs by
August. I hack at poison ivy, pull
handfuls of bamboo grass, mow
the backyard where Wag’s vole
holes outdo the grass. Dale comes
to change my flat tire, puts on
the spare. I drive thirty miles for
the flat to be repaired. Harold mows
more of my yard than I had managed
and leaves before I can thank him.
Birthday wishes come by mail,
e-mail, and phone. The waves I
make in the wider world are scarcely
noticed, but I fall asleep reassured
that I’m doing what I need to do.
My less reliable memory is good
enough. Everything I do counts
in the long tabulation of the
centuries. “Be of good cheer,”
sounds in my ears. Sun reigns.
***
More book party photos by Johnsie Tipton on May 21.
***
Judy having signed a copy of Grace for Dean Tipton.
***
Behind the book cases, left to right: Dean Tipton, Carol Hay, Judy, and Linda King. On the couch: Skip Baker. Drawings by grandchildren some years ago. The bird flying, a gift from my Russian friend Mikhail in 1992.
Those Eternally Linked Lives 13 May 21, 2017
My phalaenopsis orchid has twenty blooms,
each a revelation. All the green-white
lanterns have become exuberant faces,
winged like butterflies. Outside the window
green sweetgum stars flutter, then dance
when the wind picks up. Sometimes the
gods offer a miracle so easy to turn down.
It could never work. It isn’t enough. We
did wish for more, yet to connect as we
did kept us safe and happy. If sometimes
sad, yet out of despair. We were too busy
flinging ourselves those impossible
distances to grieve at what wasn’t possible,
given who we were and what we valued:
truth and faithfulness, joy in helping others
see what we saw. Since you died, there
are new shadows. A great darkness hovers:
cruel, making hatred seem normal, claiming
evil is good and good is evil. The human
spirit has been here before. We know how
to die if we have to. Meantime we keep
singing our hymn to liberty, justice, and
mutual love.
First Snow by Nikolai Smirnov. Village Farm in Russian provinces
***
Those Eternally Linked Lives 12 May 14, 2017
How could I forget those days we spent
in my village when you came for two
weeks to North Carolina? We didn’t
sleep together yet our spirits fused.
Your warm hands caressed my neck
when I was driving. You’d take me
to a large oak, take off your shoe, and
put your foot over mine while we prayed
to the spirit in the tree and over all.
Sometimes you were angry, or I was,
but you’d say we had to talk, and we
would. Such perfect love left us raw
when anger flared. We’d lose Paradise
and then re-find it. We tried to part,
but couldn’t do it. So we carried each
other’s souls the rest of our lives.
Your wife and son ministered to your
failing human body. You wrote one
letter after I sent you my love poem
This River. You were glad our story
was being told. Your wife forgives me.
So do her sons. Somehow I added
richness to your life as you added grace
to mine. The mystery of such love is
never fully understood, but it stays.
I will never forget those hours and
days when our souls were simply one.
They still are.
Spring garden a few years ago. Beets and onions.
***
Those Eternally Linked Lives 11 May 7, 2017
Slapped down by a Cold Front, Spring
resurges; yellow green of new leaves;
purple-veined beet greens, lettuce leaves
crowded close. I pick my salad. The figs
undeterred. A few dead branches from
recent years’ hard freezes don’t discourage
them. Forsythia is resurrected; the
hydrangea’s third crop of leaves is
still alive. I’ve made room for the
new iris bulbs. Bird song is early
because they’re nesting, feeding young.
No time for love tunes. A freshening
wind as the sun pulls the earth back
to warmer soil, more blooms, and
swelling pea ponds. All is steady,
safe, worries laid to rest. The dog
and I slept well. The sleep budget is
balanced. Evil men are doing harm,
but we will stop them, one at a time.
When you have justice on your side,
sooner or later you win, and if need
be, you win again and again.
