Tag: Harold A. Borgh

one-word prompt INCOMPLETE

The one-word prompt today is INCOMPLETE.

My first thought is remembering my father’s passing in March 1983.  I was 29 years old and in graduate school.  I still remember the kindness of my professors, who gave me incompletes in my courses.  My mother lived in another state.  I finished my degree, as I also felt this would honor my father.  I love to learn, and school was a good structure for me during this time of early loss.

Now I am much older and I have not been able to finish everything.  Illness and other losses have been part of my life as well.

Sometimes some work needs to rest, as we wait for others to complete their part, learn new skills, wait for the right time.   Discipline, mystery, trust, practice, prayer . . . all seem to be a part of creativity, in my experience.

May God grant us the wisdom to order our days, to know His plan.  Always learning!

I am still in touch with some professors and fellow students from those years.

SUNRISE AFTER THE STORM

sunrise
after the storm . . .
glistening lake-waves
branches coated with ice
and a crow cawing

after the storm
driftwood washes to shore
from other places . . .
what we let go
what we keep

for Harold A. Borgh (1915 – 1983)

Ellen Grace Olinger

Memories For Father’s Day

god-is-our-hope

Harold A. Borgh, PhD,  lived on earth from 1915 – 1983.  He was a World War II veteran and history teacher.  He was smart and sensitive; also a humble person.  I’ve been watching programs about World War II on C-Span and PBS.  Sometimes I feel he is watching with me.  I was 29 when he died and so there are many conversations we could not have.  I tend to mostly read and write poetry in the mornings, and then in the afternoons I am learning about history.   Sometimes I can return to poetry again later in the day.

I am also moved by the veterans who are in their 80s and 90s now, and perhaps able to speak more about what they lived through.  I can only imagine.  We listen and honor.  And we should take care of them well.

Some of you know this poem, that I wrote for my dad.  It was published in Bell’s Letters Poet, which is edited by Jim Bell.

love for you
became her care
until she joined you there
grief gives way to fields and wind
and now I hear your voice again

* * *
Image: antiqueclipart.com.

Sunrise After The Storm

sunrise
after the storm . . .
glistening lake-waves
branches coated with ice
and a crow cawing

after the storm
driftwood washes to shore
from other places . . .
what we let go
what we keep

for Harold A. Borgh (1915 – 1983)

The anniversary of my father’s passing is in March.

I still remember learning as a child that “Jesus wept” (John 11: 35 KJV).

This is a photo by Karl of the Lake Michigan beach in 2011, when I wrote this poem.  Some of you may remember from my first blog, Poems From Oostburg, Wisconsin.  http://ellenolinger.wordpress.com

mar-24-2011-015