from our writers

Unlimited Health and Resources Were Available – Who Would I Be?

The following is by Diana Lubarsky, one of our active and prolific members. It is in response to the prompt, If You Had Unlimited Resources.

Spiral of clock.With all the funds I’ll ever need in my pocket, and health and conflict gone, I see myself shedding the skin of survival mode. I slip my thin, healthy young woman’s body from my yacht onto a kayak and paddle gently across the tepid Caribbean waters under a perfect blue sky. A gentle sun warms my back. No longer in survival mode, I am free at last to write of stars and sun, mountains and ethereal beauty; the sights I’ve been privileged to see; the God woven fabric of life.

But soon, I am bored. Inhaling beauty all day is like eating only sugar. My stomach aches. My gaze focuses beyond the magnificent harbor where I lounge, toward the teaming city; a place of dreams and despair, of fortunes lost and lives gambled.

At night I leave my silk shawl behind, scrub my face, don sackcloth, and enter the gates of the destitute. This is where I belong. Birthing babies, bandaging wounds, bringing hope … neck deep in sweat and blood.

Although the majesty of mountain peaks and orchestral music sing to my heart, the first cry of a slimy new born taking its first breath in my arms replenishes my soul.

I have learned, wealthy or not, I am a healer.

Too Big for the Bike

The following was inspired from the prompt, “The Novice.”

Child bicycle with training wheels and flowers in the spokesHe was too big for the bike. Knees splayed awkwardly outwards, feet slipping off the pedals, hunched over the handle bars determined to hang on, the bike pitched from side to side, training wheels bent up so far, they didn’t touch the ground. It was time. Time for the training wheels to come off. Time for the big boy to ride a big boy bike.

It was two years past the growth spurt that should have graduated him up from his purple and pink bike, red plastic ribbons hanging in a tattered shower from the ends of the white handle grips, purple metal showing through the torn plastic. The plastic flowers, once carefully woven in and out of the wheel spokes, were bend and faded, flapping against the support bars with every pass.

His face puffed fiery patches across his pale cheeks as he struggled for speed along the long driveway. He leaned into the curve of the circular drive and a training wheel grabbed the pavement. He lost control and went down hard. Tears welled up but he gritted his teeth, rose up, and straightened himself and the bike.

“Kiddo,” I called as gently and evenly as I could. “Those wheels are hurting more than helping.” I stayed still on the path to the house, toes even with the edge of the pavement. It was the furthest away he allowed me to be, watching his every movement. “Maybe it’s time to take them off.”

His head whipped around and his grip turned white on the handle bars.

“No!” He twisted the bike around and stomped toward me. “I need the wheels!”

“Looks like they are getting in your way.”

We looked down at the training wheels, little tread left on them. He’d insisted that the wheels remain tightened as an extra braking system, keeping his speed under control, and his fear. Two years of abuse had locked up the nuts rather than loosened them. The tread was worn in even patches, making the wheels blocks not circles. The metal extension brackets were pointed more to the sky than the ground, twisted and scarred from too many crashes. (more…)

When Pigs Fly

Bev Walker, a long-time member of Writers in the Grove, contributed this poem. Bev specializes in writing stories and poetry with a bright and lighthearted spirit. an accomplished painter and writer, she’s published books on her family’s history and genealogy, and contributed to many anthologies. She is currently working on a memoir.

There once was a man most curious
who went from silly to serious
when the town he was happily in
was met with a great big wind.
He went up in the might swirl
of a hurricane – and with a girl.
Round and round in terrible weather
Went cow, pig and house all together.
Said the man to the spinning sky,
“Oh, oh, my, look! Pigs can fly!”
They came down in a far off land
set down by a gentle hand.
Man and girl married in a jig,
fixed the house, milked the cow, styed the pig.
And because of their whirlwind romance,
Everyone knew how to dance.
And it never caused a moment’s stir
that they never knew where they were.
So don’t fret if your life is a jumble
one day it will land all a tumble
in a haven where all things come right,
and even pigs dance with delight.

Seeds of…Volume II: Anthology of Pacific Northwest Writers

SEEDS OF…Volume II: Anthology of Pacific NW Writers (Volume 2) is the latest collection of writers from Writers in the Grove and community writers from around the Pacific Northwest published by Tawk Press.

Complied, edited, and published by Writer’s in the Grove leader, MaryJane Nordgren, the anthology features a wide but cohesive collection of stories, poems, and prose that will delight you and keep you reading page after page, even out loud to friends, family, and strangers on the bus.

The publisher’s description on Amazon describes the book best:

This second collection of essays, stories and poems by writers from Oregon and Washington varies in outlook and philosophy, in form and style as widely as does the Pacific Northwest community.

Diana Lubarsky leads off “Coping” with a hilarious crisis in the lives of her characters from Dante’s Angels. Mark Thalman reminds of the fragility of the line between life and death. Ross Hall, Lois Akerson and Bunny Hansen grow from loss. In a letter to Dorothy, Fred Melden contemplates where we are after life’s experiences. Joe Schrader follows poachers from Minnesota who are little better off hunting in Oregon. Mitch Metcalf engulfs us in a disaster in the North Sea. “Relating” brings Roger Ritchey, Rebecca Robinson, Hannah Kolehmainen and Matthew Hampton in touch with Nature. Beverly Walker and G.A. Meyerink rely on love of animals to bring out the best in people. Charles Pritchard, Joan Graves and Everett Goodwin define self in relationship with another. Joan Ritchey is reminded of generations of love by the family mantle clock. Bill Stafford’s humor wrings joy from plays on words beginning with ‘O.’ In “Finding Self,” Jessica Morrell’s planned escape to Nature becomes a lesson in tolerance and the joy in giving. Nel Rand, near the end of life, returns to what has mattered most. Paula Adams’ fearful tadpoles ponder one of their own who reaches beyond the known.

Rosemary Lombard, Barbara Schultz and Susan Munger reach into foreign settings. Karen Hessen, Eva Foster, Sarah Hampton and Gerlinde Schrader grow from difficult childhood challenges. Julie Caulfield and her brother’s inability to swallow at the dictate of their father brings challenges to their mother. Sandra Mason’s heart is beside the Pacific, but her roots are deep in the Midwest in “Remembering.” Susan Schmidlin wrestles with the hitches in farm maintenance. Susan Field and Muriel Marble remember life changing in a hurricane and a war. In “Reflecting,” Marilyn Schmidlin leans on and learns from a strong tree of life. Phil Pochurek and Wafford Tornieri explore humanness in the cycles of season and the moon. Alisa Hampton and M.J. Nordgren ponder the interconnectedness of seen and unseen.

These thirty-nine authors scatter wild and domestic seed abroad into the far-flung, fertile soil of imagination. But uniting them all is the love of the strength, beauty and challenge of Pacific Northwest area of the country.

Seeds of…Volume II is available in print on Amazon.com as a paperback.