poet

Sunday Morning Run


I am happy …

I Did Not Run


       Running early in the morning just before dawn I was crossing over a familiar crosswalk.

                  I had just crossed the street where the white building is and the corner of the chapel 

              where my dear friend sally played piano.

                  I guess I startled it, as I approached it, this large furry animal had gone a quarter up 

               the tree after a squirrel 

                  It was huge.  It slid down the tree and growled loud.

                  I froze, and yelled, “Go away, go away,” loudly. Many years in Alaska with 

             bears common place, you are taught, do not run and scream as loudly as possible.

            It took off across the street and I stood there for a moment frozen, before I started  

             on.   The squirrel had gone all the way up the tree. 

           So, I slowly started to continue down the walk toward 12 th brick the old prison when I  

           heard something again.

          I turned around and the animal had crossed back over, and I thought omg what if he is  

          coming after me.

                  I stood there watching him in the distance, he paused and went into the weeds and  

         brush and down the hill near toward the railroad tracks.

                  They have turned the lights off early and making the streets dark as the days get  

         shorter.  

         We looked them up, and yes, they roam more at dusk and dawn and go after small  

         rodents 

                  And the one thing they said was DO NOT RUN.

                  I did not, but GOD I WAS SCARED.

                  His growl was something I will not forget for a while.  A sound is hard to describe.

              I have encountered many wild animals running in Panama and as far north as 

              Alaska, but none so threatening as I felt with this one.  I was glad it was so dark, 

             I do not think I would want to remember the way it looked.  The sound was enough. 

The Times When Creation Shows Up


I am reading a book, entitled ; “Silence, (in the age of noise.)” Written by: Erline Kagge, he asked Mark Juncosa , “When I asked Mark Juncosa, one of the minds behind Musk’s space programme, whether he ever has the chance to think out the ideas that could revolutionize the rocket industry, he replied: “A normal work day at best contains eight hours of meetings, a few hours to respond to emails. It all blurs together. The only time to shut out the world is when I exercise, surf, take a shower or sit on the toilet. That’s when new solutions surface.”

Excerpt From
Silence
Erling Kagge & Becky L. Crook
https://books.apple.com/us/book/silence/id1217089376
This material may be protected by copyright.

To make my point, a song came to me taking a shower, it came so quickly, I could only step outside to grab a piece of paper and pen and write it down, wet and smeared ink , I later copied it to Microsoft word.

The song was , “Whispered Prayer,” The music to the song was Written and Produced by Christine McNeill-Matteson, Music Written and Performed by Kip Haaheim ,Vocals by Katie Bieber.

First published in “Pieces of Divine Masterpieces: Poet’s Voice, Agathos: An International Review of Humanities and Social Science. ”

To affirm, Mark Juncosa , (Chief Engineer at Space X, ) in his interview with Erline Kragge, “Silence “; polished and copyrighted by, Pantheon, a division of Random House, LLC, 2017.

I get it.” Bob Dylan gets it, as he explains in a 60 minute interview, most artist gets it.

Free your space, and let creativity come to you. Find your ‘silence.’

Below the song…

The Morning Carol of the Song Birds


Sweet Bread and Tea


A tradition of women

who have long since passed.

Has given belonging

to those who are last.

We stand in the clovers,

we pour tea at its best.

As the sweet bread is served

among all the rest.

May the Celtic women

long survive,

into the histories

and the archives.

copyrighted : 2025  Christine McNeill-Matteson

John Steinbeck


A Writer


Forever Full Moon


Just outside my window 

The full moon lingers there 

Night after night the glowing stares

Into the silvery light it cast 

Cross the darkness the magic last 

As if to say , no matter what 

I will forever be , waiting in the dark 

Looking back to see 

You , looking for the full moon magic 

Across eternity 

CMM.  2024 

Remembering the Buffalo Soldier: An Eloquent Crimson Sunrise


I ran past and paused,

the crimson rise of the sun

gave honor to the Buffalo Soldier.

A moment of memory,

a moment of time,

a moment of the universe

casting crimson sign.

They are not forgotten,

they are still heard.

CMM. copyrighted: 2024

Poem


I gather my thoughts

As I hang the phone

Back to go quiet again

I think of our conversation

And become somber

Because now I worry

Why , because I hear the pain

Pain that should have never

Been your pain

Pain that should have never

Been my pain .

But it was and it still is

And we did not know

Until it was to late

To ask , why?

CMM 2024

Dedicated to my sister and me