It’s Friday, I’m in Love

Monday I was torn apart.

Tuesday, Wednesday, frail of heart.

Thursday, couldn’t even start.

But it’s Friday, I’m in love.

Sitting in this sea of hands.

Clapping, joyous, from the stands.

Piano, ready, for her fans.

It’s Friday, I’m in love.

Sarah McLachlan Concert- Burning Kiln Winery

Sarah delivers as no one can.

Beauty before us, a voice that understands.

She epitomizes what our hearts demand.

It’s Friday, I’m in love.

Who knew this moment could be so grand.

Time standing still, souls unite on this land.

An unexpected gift, so needed, yet unplanned.

It’s Friday, I’m in love.



America must Die

May you celebrate differently this 4th of July.

With “America must Die!” as your heart-felt outcry.

Death to nationalism.

Death to protectionism.

Death to sexism.

And to racism.

Death to religicizing.

Death to moralizing.

Death to patriarchy.

And to hierarchy.

America was built on destructive ideologies.

Religious men abused while quoting distorted theologies.

“Life. liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” sounds innocent.

But it drives white supremacy to the marginalizeds’ diminishment.

There is only one way out of this mess you call freedom.

Tear it down and start again. Pursue truth and God’s Kingdom.



Healing Song

I went to my garden this morning, and deciding to play a song,

I blew on my alto recorder, when beautifully the frogs were drawn.

They came to the surface to listen, at least that’s how it appeared.

Even the hummingbirds stopped to rest, lulled by the song as they neared.

I went to my garden this morning, unsure if to sit or to mourn.

But with the help of the creatures who gathered, my heart was soothed

and reborn.




There’s a round bale on my front lawn.

It’s been sitting there a while.

Partly because it weighs 1000 pounds.

Mostly because we’re all too tired.

Procrastination is survival.

Eventually the bleating goats will move us from our apathy.

Then we’ll roll it down the hill to their immediate satisfaction.

By then the grass beneath it will have yellowed.

Procrastination has its costs.

There’s a round bale on my front lawn.

It might seem unusual to some.

For us it’s fairly ordinary stuff.

A part of what we do.

Procrastination has its benefits too.



Another Friday

Somehow another Friday has arrived.

But very different from the last.

Last Friday my mother lived.

She had breakfast.

An afternoon of friends.

Then with dinner on her lap,

She rested back her head.

And left.

Somehow another week has passed.

In some ways far too fast.

In others, plodding on and on and on.

How can I need more time, while it ticks so slowly?

It may take a while before Fridays feel okay again.

And thankfully time will do its work.

My mother was born a Sunday’s child:

Wise and good.

But she died a Friday’s:

Giving and full of love.

At what point did her Friday-ness set in?

I am glad tomorrow is Saturday.

A Saturday’s child I will remain, for now.

And work.

Who knows on what day I will meet my end?



Ginette Mack

Ginette Mack

Creating beauty is the most important thing any of us can do. Beauty can save the world. Art brings healing and transformation. May we all be creators.