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 made some progress today. It might not seem like a big deal, but to us and to Catherine it is! Her physical therapist recommended that I take Catherine's socks off and bring her feet to her hands. She says it is very important developmentally that she know where her feet are. This will help her with rolling, crawling, and eventually walking. It's also good for gaining strength in her abdomen which is weak. So I have been doing this. I would bring her feet up and she would grab them but was not able to hold on to them very long and she would not bring them up herself.
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