I hurry to the hill

 I hurry to the hill

I hurry to the hill to see the last of the sun setting 

A brisk walk -I don't want to miss it

Spring blossoms in the sky high

fragrance in the air throughout the woods

The windswept path clear of fall leaves 

New greens sprouting everywhere

Muffled sounds of fast cars and motorcycles in a distance

Me on a calm, quiet trail

I guess all are rejoicing in the spring and the sunshine

As we rush to see the sunset on the hill or the new dawn of day

About this poem: I hurry to the hill is a poem about a walk to the woods near sunset. It was also a day when the tulips in our yard were at the peak color and growth. Easter joy fresh on my mind. The Hill of Calvary could not hold Jesus's life in the ground but through his death and being raised to life meant new life for me! Fresh thoughts of so many years ago April 17th, 1982, when My Life, my sins, were washed clean and even now to this day and the sure hope of life eternal. - Joe Holuta

And I heard this worship song that sealed this beautiful walk and day!

Hill of Grace

Sweater

Sweater's warmth and this heart of mine beating

The warmth

An early morning 

Hair not yet in my pony

A sweater, a warmth, a security, and fresh spring blossoms' fragrance

Hurrying to say so long

Running alongside the fence 

"I chase"

like so many before me

Waving so long

Hearts beating fast

Not wanting to see them go

My legs not quite running as fast as my heart beating to my loves, those leaving

I wave 

I hope 

I wait 

I take a deep breath

Inhale deeply the sweater's weather fragrance 

I'm held close, warm home ahead 

I'm held with the memories and those that love me and I them

About this poem: Sweater's warmth and this heart of mine beating is a poem about our granddaughter walking outside with Nana's sweater. She was running with her dad, holding his hand, to say goodbye to her cousins driving the car up the road. Her legs and heart going as fast as they could to wave and "chase the car", as she exclaimed, as she said goodbye. We have done the same gesture over the years. So hard to see those you love leave, after having a wonderful time together! My heart was beating for both of them as they captured this memory together. - Joe Holuta

Two trees two lives

Two trees two lives

Two trees two lives

Oak trees, acorns drift, scatter and plant

Like the children of two lives 

Roots deep in the earth

Spreading, grasping, nourishing, hope

We plant trees in memory

Those we love live on

Trees planted in memory are far more than trees alone

You can hear their voices and laughter at the tree,

Encouragement and smiles and quiet appreciation too

Generations that follow sit under the trees

Oblivious to the history, the memories

Spring and fall the same, blossoms and falling leaves, branches high 

Vigorous lives, roots running deep but are rarely seen

Blossoms in spring

Colorful banners in fall

Seasons change year after year

Yet it doesn’t register, this breath of life, the daunting pace

The bench in their names a place to rest and dialogue on the blessings of this "beautiful life."

About this poem: Two trees two lives is a poem about two memorial red oak trees planted in memory of Betty Ann and Gealy W. Wallwork. I frequently walk to the Oak Grove and sit at the bench and think about their lives and the impact they made on my life and my children's lives. I have seen the trees in winter, spring, summer, and fall and I've seen the changes in the leaves and the growth as well. Each time I sit at the bench and look at the trees I'm invigorated with all that Betty and Gealy taught me and shared with our family- the love, the kindness, and encouragement in our lives. - Joe Holuta