Archive for the Family Category

Episode M2.1 – My Chosen Kindred

Posted in Family, Friends, Meditation, Memories, Podcast with tags on May 25, 2023 by blglick
Haiku Mediations on My Chosen Kindred

Posted in Family, Friends, Love, Memories with tags , on May 2, 2023 by blglick

What I May Become
Finds Its Wings on the Breath of
My Chosen Kindred

Posted in Family, Love, With Michele Gast with tags , on April 25, 2023 by blglick

It’s No Special Day
But I Think of You and Am
Grateful and Amazed

Posted in Family, Memories with tags , on April 3, 2023 by blglick

The Quiet Rustle
Of Needle and Thread Through Cloth
Whispers of My Mom

Posted in Family, History, LIght, Spiritual with tags , on March 12, 2023 by blglick

They had Simple Names,
Katie, Maggie. Their Lives Light
The Generations


Maggie Kaufman Shetler 1876-1932
Katie Cook 1935-2023

For Becky and Olivia

Posted in Family, Love with tags on August 23, 2022 by blglick

Making the Future
Happen.  A New Mother and
A New Life. God’s Grace

Posted in Abstract, Color, Family, Haiku'd Photographs, Sunrise, With Michele Gast with tags on April 6, 2022 by blglick
Even Though She’s Gone
She Still Kindles Light and Warmth
Like a Rising Sun
Sunrise
Carpe Diem (For Doris)

Episode R1.0 – Reflections on Haiku about Home

Posted in Family, Food, Home, Memories, Podcast, Reflections on March 29, 2022 by blglick

Reflections on Haiku About Home

For my beloved cousin, Kathy

Posted in Death, Family, LIght, Love with tags , on March 21, 2022 by blglick

A Light of Kindness
Flickers Into Darkness And
I Can’t Catch My Breath

This Light Not Tended
But Not Forgotten, A Piece
Of My Foundations

Breathe I Tell Myself
Breathe. How Can This Hole Exist?
How Do I Go On?

Breathe I Tell Myself
And All at Once, I Recall
All The Bright Moments

And I Know This Light
Of Kindness Will Burn On, A Bright
And Eternal Flame

Posted in Family, Food, Home, Love, Memories, Tri-ku with tags , on July 30, 2017 by blglick

Dough From My Own Hands
Fresh Baked, Sliced and Buttered Tastes
of Generations

First My Mother’s Bread
Baked Each Friday, Fragrance Fills
The House After School

And My Father’s Rolls,
Cinnamon and Butter and
Dough, Fried and Frosted

And, Like a Story,
Grandma’s Cookies, Soft, Sweet and
Rationed, Sneak Cookies

So My Bread Tastes of
Generations, Leavened With
Love and Memory