Wednesday, April 2, 2008


The Jesus hung upon the tree
a sacrifice for you & me
Yet, if Jesus played as a child in the tree
wouldn't his laugh be more of a delightful
sight to see?
If Jesus has no hands to nail;
no feet
no sandals - no blood
would his love or wisdom
I think hands or feet
crippling not his purpose
or his heart
I'm wondering what is showing
in all that 'age-old' art....
Hanging head not in agony or shame
but instead - head held up
and no one taking blame
I don't need someone to die for me
I don't want anyone hung upon a tree!
No tree wants to be doused with martyred blood
or become the post for a blessed life, lost
No, let's not write this man was betrayed
Let us join with him - that's why THIGS-BEAR prayed...
THIGS-BEAR thought he heard his name; 'bearing' down - the burden
was it his at birth?
Did he have to 'bear up'; smile - be 'bare' - be cold..
'bear' the truth
...and for what it's worth?
THIGS-BEAR wore his sandals so he could walk
where no 'bear-feet' were allowed;
where shirt and shoes are required
..among the 'people' crowd...
THIGS-BEAR came into 'compliance' - he adhered
to people laws
THIGS-BEAR even learned how to write and type
(difficult with his furry paws)
THIGS-BEAR took to making rhyme
- and a little reason too
THIGS-BEAR often wonders; pondering
all the things that people do.
My story of THIGS-BEAR: I wanted to write, and not use my name - so I 'created' a bear (had a real stuffed bear hand-made in 1989). I had no idea what to name him - but I knew his eyes had to be crossed so he could see more clearly.
I knew he had to wear sandals - like Jesus. I knew he had to have a tree (not a cross) - so I had Bruce Sanborn finish my drawing because Bruce is a talented pen-and-ink artist.
I knew 'all these things'....waiting for an idea for the bear's name, I got a letter from my young nephew (Danny). I'd sent Danny some gifts; he'd had a very tough beginning - but what a darling boy he was (and now is a wonderful man). I got the mail that afternoon -
about 6 days after my bear arrived via UPS from Cincinnati where Gary Kramig had
made the bear according to my design.
The letter from Danny read: "Dear Aunt Diane: Thank you for the thigs you sent me." Then a p.s.: "I'm sorry I spelled 'things' wrong, but I only have my dad's pen and I can't change it'.
I thought: "Everything is fixed, and you can't change it......"
I didn't want Danny to feel bad - I wondered what I could do...........
My new bear looked across the room from 'his chair' that I'd given him - he seemed to 'talk' (and still does by the way).........
"You can call me thigs", he said. I did!
About one week after I wrote Danny that I'd named my new bear 'thigs', my bear spoke again: "Do you know what thigs means?"
THIGS-BEAR did not wait for a reply....
THIGS stands for TRUTH, HONOR, INTEGRITY, GOOD-SPIRIT......So it did - and in 1989, I did a
copy-right on all my poetry, and a short-story - it's called: 'IN THE SPIRIT OF SELF'.
I re-named my promotion's
business (very small), THIGS, TWIGS, AND CHALK-TALK.
THIGS then told me that TWIGS (which I loved to pick up and save from the trees after a storm), meant: THIS WORLD IS GOD'S SON.....
Chalk-talk was for the children; we handed out pieces of large colored chalk - had the kids draw on the sidewalks and drive-ways; I'd take the photos, and save their drawings 'forever'. I got this idea when I lived in Seattle; a poor little girl (only poor because her parents were) loved to draw with chalk on our sea-wall. She'd cry each day when the tide rose, and washed her drawings away. One day I saw her crying; I talked to her and said the next day we'd save all that she drew. She drew; I took photos - I developed them, and framed them. They were by her bed-side when I left Seattle in 1983.
Now THIGS-BEAR and I are retired; we just make 'blogs' and enjoy our simple ways.
THIGS-BEAR says that blogs sounds like someone spilled 'blogs of milk' on the floor - and what is that 'blog' on the rug??? I say a 'blog' is a 'biographical-log' - the story of our lives unfolding, and we have the chance to 'spill it' not on the rug, but on the I-net where we become just 'another candle' for others to see, and get to know better.
Diane Stirling-Stevens -