My Grandma Was A Bear-Part Two
Family
My Grandma Was A Bear-Part One
The Amen Corner
The Amen Corner
We shared a two-storey house and garden
with a gold-veined stone fountain
in a Canadian mining town years ago
when few people locked their doors,
neighbours knew all their neighbours,
visits rarely planned or announced.
Our family of six lived upstairs;
Mom’s retired parents lived down.
Beautiful flowers grew around
Grandpa’s colourful garden there.
Four children with lots of toys,
two girls, two boys and many things
crowded into the upstairs space-
our ‘home sweet home’ not a ‘tidy’ place.
Often we’d hear someone knocking
at our shared downstairs side door.
As it opened, we’d hear “We’re here!”
You should have seen Mom’s face.
We’d scramble when Mom commanded
“Clear the decks!” Then we’d race
to tidy ‘the mess’ of our living-
the mess on ‘battleship’ flooring,
on tables, on counters, on chairs,
things spread out everywhere.
We’d grab and throw ‘with care’
everything into ‘the Amen Corner’-
our secret place out of sight,
saying “Amen!” laughing, praying
no visitors would actually see
just how ‘untidy’ we could be
after climbing the stairs
to our heavenly haven.
(Sometimes even pots and pans landed
in the pile out of sight that day.)
Then Mom would sigh and say
“Okay”, smile and open the upstairs door
to welcome the company in.
Visitors ‘talk’, Mom knew. She was no fool.
I laugh, remembering ‘the Amen Corner’-
that place of ‘saving grace’
and ‘saving face’ with visitors too
where our possessions would ‘disappear’.
They’d ‘resurface’ soon once again
appearing ‘a bit worse for wear’
or sometimes remain
hiding a while longer in there
until finally convinced
“the coast is clear!”
April 1, 2023
Shelley Audrey Wilson
Victoria, BC
Immigrants
Immigrants
We’re all Immigrants here in this Evolving
God’s Kingdom, God’s Queendom, God’s World,
this Alien Garden Planet, our World…
We came here, as the poet Wordsworth says,
trailing clouds of glory from God who is our Home…
It doesn’t matter what Names we assign
to that Home- Heaven, Paradise, Source…
It doesn’t matter what Names we assign
to that God- Names we hold holy, sacred, dear-
any more than how we pray to our God
in postures alone or in gatherings of many…
We can’t ever lose our Root Connection
to the Divine, though we might think it so
losing our awareness of Spirit Home, God,
forgetting God’s Unconditional Love Everlasting,
imagining our bodies as all there is…
We may claim Lands and Waters of Earth,
embrace Technological Wonders, Knowledge
of Scientific Facts, even while still clinging
to primitive beliefs like the World is flat
– or there’s some devil negating God’s power-
negating absolute, omnipotent, glory of God power
-or saying one Religion, one Race, one System,
one Country, one Creed, one Family called Humans
is superior, more worthy, Better and Best…
We are as Immigrant Children on this Planet
of many Languages, many Names- like ‘Earth’.
Even now, our Species struggles to fully Adapt.
When our individual ‘why we are here’ is complete,
we leave behind our bodies, our ‘Immigrant Stories’-
we leave behind the effects of our life-
how we touched the Earth, the Animals,
the lives of Family, Friends and Strangers-
moving back to our Home in God Source again-
where we stay or explore physical life once or
even many times more… Immigrants again…
March 25, 2023
Shelley Audrey Wilson
Victoria, BC
My Father, Stan
Flowerpoet 
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