Story, Value, and Becoming More Real
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A pair of poems for a winter season

February 19, 2022

Leslie Bustard

“Let us stretch ourselves out towards him,

that when he comes he may fill us full.” 

~ St. Augustine

The tree across the street,

the one I see framed in our front window,

was slowly losing its leaves,


until yesterday’s wind came.

Now only a scattering of red and orange remain,

exposing a maze of branches


reaching out,

stretching up.


And then there is my heart,

how gradually I reveal it

to me       to you


to God.


How my longings reach out

and then stretch


and stretch up,

waiting to be filled.


And in the spring,

the tree I see in our window shines

in the afternoon sun,

rich with its pink flowers


and its green leaves.



Mysteries of the World II


I remember little girl me

walking up and down

my neighborhood street,

searching the summer sky.

I believed God and Jesus,

Adam and Eve and winged angels

sat behind all those piles of clouds.

Glory peeked through the crevices,

as they watched the world go by.


Heading west on Delta,

flying above the earth,

and resting my forehead

against the window,

I scan the peaks and canyons

and oceans of sunlit white-

waiting to see what’s there.

The featured image is courtesy of Julie Jablonski and used with her gracious permission for Cultivating.


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