John Clare Stokes
Take me back to October of eighty one
When we were free from all the devices
just sitting and talking as the day passes
fish frying with hush puppies soon done.
Luther R Stokes Evangelistic Association
1981 Annual outing
Crawfordville, Florida
John Clare Stokes
You entered my intersection
From the left of me
Somewhere in my past
Mr John's taught me
I was to yield to you
I've spent a lifetime trying
To obey Mr John's
Today I let you cut me off
speed
On through
I would have let you.
Sitting watching for jets to hit the moon, i had the camera in my lap when suddenly an eagle flew into the moon and over my head. And i missed it! I rarely see an eagle. It would have been the shot. There were few jets as well.
Judges 4:5.
My thoughts today are upon this journey between Ramah and Bethel, of the places we have rested, paused, dwelt and even turned back in our journey toward Tabor, with Jabin's chariots in pursuit.
I know it’s time
When upon politics i entwine
To load the yak
And sanity soon
Trickles back
Santa Fe
He was the runt of the litter of boxers and Artance Raker of Shadeville gave him as a puppy to my daddy in Crawfordville for he couldn’t keep up and he didn’t have that smashed in boxer nose or those clipped ears. But what Artance missed was lil Goliath had the best disposition and showed it by quickly winning us all. We gave him several pet names, all to which he responded, Bosepbus, Rackisnap, Bo, Bob White, Lithy. He was so highly favored he rode shotgun or else he’d nudge his way into your lap, wherever the family went. About the only flaw I ever saw, or was it, was how, when we lived in Williston, when upon the long chain by the parsonage, and the brothers playing basketball across the street would have the ball stray toward him, he wouldn’t let them get it. They’d holler until someone heard and would come out, crawl under the house and throw it back. I don’t think the parsonage committee cared for him and I recall a few times a brave spokeswoman would say we must get rid of him. Goliath didn’t like those chained up days. When we moved to Lake City, at the parsonage on the lake, growing old, he whined one day to go outside. He immediately ran out and into Alligator Lake, catching an otter. Then, at the old home on Vickers where we had moved after my father retired from the FUM, down with dropsy in his legs, Bosepbus whined to get out, going immediately to uncover a huge frog in the bushes. The next day, unable to get up, Dr Smith cried as he put him to sleep. We carried him up to Crawfordville where he didn’t have to be confined on a chain or small yard and made him a fine resting place under the cool azalea’s where he loved to lay. Good runts don’t often come along. Goliath was one fine giant of a runt.
Fridays can be days one looks forward to or days we dread, as we have that sixth sense, today they fire me, or the all come crashing down reality, unexpectedly, they did. It happened for one such. It’s happened to me, more than once. You never handle it gracefully. You fill your box and awkwardly go.
And so all Friday, I dwelt beneath the cloud.
Toward the end of day, finishing up at Dacier in Dowling Park, there in a side room off the main desk, an older gentleman was crooning on his guitar to the elderly lady residents. Love songs. But then, he began to sing the old hymn , the Love of God. I lingered. It was the balm from Gilead needed. I trust my friend with the box of belongings found her balm of Gilead too.
There I was suddenly on the strut line
Not a lick of camo on to conceal me
I dropped to my belly just in time
Setting the camera by feel blindly.
And so they passed within a few feet
They never even took notice of my clicks
Feathers iridescent in the shaded heat
I finally rose and took home several ticks.
That fading from your Vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me-
Almost a loneliness.
Emily Dickinson
