Saying farewell to an all-night friend; The Caged Bird is Finally Free

A Tribute to Moody’s Mike Kellogg
Saying farewell to an all-night friend

Through the night all through these years,
your deep warm voice has calmed our fears.
Like corn flakes in the early morn,
you’re breakfast for the soul.

For those who have to work til dawn,
your words of insight urged them on
to do their best and keep the faith
amid their loneliness.

And for the restless counting sheep,
you lullabyed them into sleep
through music and the spoken word
that helped them hear God’s heart.

Yes, through the years all through the night
you helped us as we faced the fight.
You’ve been a means of grace to me
and countless listeners!

Thanks, Mike!

*Today Mike Kellogg retires from Moody after 42 years on the radio. If you aren’t aware of Mike Kellogg’s program “Music Through the Night” on Moody Broadcasting Network, just GOOGLE his name.

The Caged Bird is Finally Free
Remembering Maya Angelou

The caged bird’s sung
her final song.
At last, she’s been set free.
That warm deep voice
that called to us
is now a memory.

She rhymed us
into civil rights.
Like Michelangelo,
her art brought
moral truth to life.
We’ll miss Miss Angelou.

Peace to her memory!

(I got to hear Maya Angelou speak at a leadership conference at the United Center in Chicago 15 years ago. She began her speech singing a song acapella. Very effective!)

It’s an exercise in patriotism and gratitude

Take a walk in a park.
It’s a good exercise.
It can get your heart beating quite fast
if the park is a graveyard
and you choose to walk slow
so to ponder the heroes who’ve passed.

Midst the flags and the flowers
a name can be seen
that identifies who’s six feet down.
Why not stop and remember
the price that was paid
that allows you to wear freedom’s crown?

A long walk this weekend
will do your heart good.
I am guessing it might skip a beat
as you add up your blessings
and subtract your gripes
giving thanks for the names at your feet.

A 17th of May salute

Grandsons of Norway and their sisters
flip through photographs.
And as they do they brim with Nordic pride.
Those snapshots trigger memories
of stories they have heard
and of the ones who told them who have died.

These proud descendants of the ones who
left their native land
determine to uphold their legacy.
These grandsons and granddaughters
of the immigrants that came
bear resemblance to their kin who crossed the sea.

In them we see the Vikings’ spirit
seeking out success
courageously exploring better ways.
And I am who I speak of
as I wave the red and blue
on the 17th of May and other days.

* My maternal grandfather immigrated from Norway in 1905. In writing this poem I salute his courage and ancestry.