The Seasons: A Poem

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Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai
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Catherine's Surgery

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I am writing this quickly from the parent hospitality room at the hospital. Catherine went in to surgery at 3 PM (the hour of Mercy) and was out at 5:30. The doctor said everything went well and that she did great. She will be in recovery for an hour or so and then brought back to her room. She also said that she didn't think she would need the venitlator or anything after recovery and there is no feeding tube because they are confident that she will be able to eat on her own within 7-10 days.

Thanks so much for the prayers! Keep praying! - please ;-)

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