Category Archives: Poetry with Faith

My late Grandmother was an incredible composer, writer, & artist. Sharing with the world what she left behind.

Galactic Birthday

Giving me ALL the feels!

14,197 days ago, my Husband was born. I talked about his awesomeness last week, but last night as I was reading through an old journal of my Grandmothers’ (Which I’ve been slowly reading chronologically) I realize the page I’m reading, was written on the exact day he was born. Friday, September 2nd, 1983.

These little “God Winks” or “signs” always make me warm and fuzzy inside. Almost like a gift from the universe.

“I see you, Tiffany.”

“You are exactly where you are supposed to be.”

On this particular day, My Grandmother played the organ for a wedding that morning. She said “Hearing the exact words that were spoken at our (Her and my Grandfathers’) wedding made me realize what we had promised to “be” for each other ~ “Cherishing” in sickness & health ~ For better or worse ~ That’s the name of the game alright!”

Ironic it all happened the day my husband came earthside? I won’t be offended if this puts me in the cuckoo column, but things like this, to me, are like being hugged by something far bigger than I could ever comprehend.

But there’s more.

My Grandmother went on to share details about her day, and at the end of her entry she says ” We had smelt & salad for supper ~ Played the recorder til late ~ then went out in the yard to see if I could see any falling stars ~ I didn’t, but I did see Cassiopeia and the Big Dipper ~ It’s a lovely still balmy evening.”

If you know anything about my husband & me ~ it’s that we started off conquering the galaxy together. So to read about her reflecting on a marriage that lasted over 59 years, while she also is finding solace in the stars… It invoked a really great feeling.

Here is her short poem from that night:

“To make the stars “home”

we pattern their shining

in the huge darkened dome

of the sky.

There’s the Big Dipper

and Cassiopeia

from her chair

is gazing nearby.

Making meaning by naming

the patterns of the stars

gives a sense of belonging

in this odd world of ours.”

Poem by Faith L. Sanders

A Summer Breeze

Sketch by Faith L. Sanders, August 18th, 1973

A poem by Faith L. Sanders ~ Thursday, September 8, 1983

A southern breeze

through wide-open window

is ruffling the curtains tonight

It blows in my bedroom

fresh – fanning my face ~

a whispered caress of delight.

This summery breeze

on its fanciful fling

is fickle as fall evenings near.

And so I resolve

I will not think ahead

but bask in its warmth while it’s here.

NEW!

Question of the day!

What Does my Home Say?

A pre-painting sketch of a home by Faith L. Sanders, July 1973

After sharing a picture & having many conversations about the cozy corner that I paint in, it reminded me of a poem my Grandmother wrote. We all live in a way that works for us. I remember having a trampoline & slide in our living room & an outdoor intended tent inside. Autism formed “Our way”. Because we are human, our minds might wander to wonder as to what others “think” of our space. I stopped thinking about this long ago – since I knew NOBODY who had 2 autistic children and so our needs were different. We made our house OUR HOME. A comfortable place for us to be a family… That is all that matters.

A poem by Faith L. Sanders, Tuesday, September 13th, 1983

When you come where I do dwell,

What messages does my house tell?

Fastidiously neat and bare~

Precisely placed is every chair-

Books in order on the shelf~

What does that say of myself?

Dishes undone in the sink;

Garbage gives a gentle stink-

Dustballs rolling on the floor –

Did you notice at the door?

Among the clutter and the clear

spaces, do sure signs appear

saying. “Welcome ~ Come have FUN” ~

or would you rather turn and run?

Don’t Forget to Laugh.

1955, My mother is 3 years old with something to laugh about.

A poem by Faith L. Sanders. Wednesday, September 7th, 1983

From January to November

and through the cold month of December,

there is one thing to remember:

Don’t forget to laugh~

When the morning light is breaking,

you from sleeping are awaking.

While at breakfast you’re partaking,

Don’t forget to laugh~

During rainy days and sunny

while you’re out there making money,

find some situation funny

that will make you laugh~

When the sun sets in its glory,

think of some hilarious story,

Add it to your repertoiry

That will make me laugh~

“I”

Ruffed Grouse Sketch by Faith L. Sanders April 23rd, 1973

This poem is one of my favorites. There is so much unknown and I often wonder about these same thoughts nearly 40 years after this was written!

A poem by Faith L. Sanders July 16th, 1983

“I”

A poem about the concept of “I”

Is audacious of me to even try;

for if “I” eternal do only dwell

temporarily in this shell,

Where have “I” been; where shall “I” be

before & after the time I’m “me?”

A drop in the wave?

A part of the whole?

An innocent gleam in the oversoul?

Which Philosopher do I trust

in planning whether I boom or bust?

Who says I couldn’t be a cat

or sail through nights as a winged bat

or grow from roots a stem & flower?

Who sets limits to my power?

What I’d really like to know

{If I’m eternal in this show}

Why did I bestow on me

Such a lousy memory.

Why no recollection merry

of my lives as elf & fairy?

Why no glimmer from the past

of prowling slow or flying fast~

of hoping- hating- hurting or

of feeling “I’ve done this before?”

Perhaps each time the slate wipes clean

to give each “I” a brand-new scene

intriguing me to find the clue

of why I’m here & what to do.

To write this poem while I’m still me

is an exercise in futility~

For when I die & then do know,

The curtain’s down~ end of show.

In a Different Time.

A sketch by Faith L. Sanders, April 24th, 1973

Allow me to share what my recent experiences have been so you can better place my mind frame to start something new. I don’t expect anyone to fully understand how I can just walk away from stability with no solid plans, just big dreams and abide-full listening to my heart/soul’s desires. AKA Holy Spirit Led.

Faith, my grandmother’s name was Faith. She was part of the generation when ladies were encouraged to learn to draw, play music & write poetry.   I connected with her on a deep level because we both struggled with depression.  She was an incredible composer, musician, writer, artist, & bird aficionado.

A few weeks ago, my Mom and I were looking through old picture albums and came across some journals of hers. They aren’t’ like a “spill all” diary, but a place where she went to share her days and write poetry about her thoughts.

I have never been more inspired than after reading half of the first journal. I want to share her cleverness with the world. She made me laugh out loud, ponder deeply and feel love~ All with words she randomly threw together during her day.

I love words.  I love making people feel, think & desire to grow to the next level of themselves. She did this with only a few rhyming lines. Here is a poem she wrote on a random afternoon, in the same spot I found my peace last month, 39 years ago.

Tuesday, July 5th, 1983

“When nature spreads her bountiful garment

Over warm waiting earth,

There’s a lush green growing glowing goodness

gradually giving birth,

To an attitude of praise and gladness-

a feeling of presence near,

Within, without, all round about

An unreasonable aura of cheer.

A glad-to-be-alive sensation,

Unfathomable sense of high elation

Of taking part in Love’s creation

In the blossoming time of the year. “

By Faith L. Sanders