Blog archive
February 2026
January 2026
BEACONS OF HOPE - The Dump Trucks of the Eaton Fire
01/29/2026
Exploring the Hidden Trails Together: The Pasadena Village Hiking Group
01/28/2026
Five Years of Transformative Leadership at Pasadena Village
01/28/2026
For Your Hearing Considerations: A Presentation by Dr. Philip Salomon, Audiologist
01/28/2026
Hearts & Limbs in Zambia
01/28/2026
Lost Trees of Altadena Return Home
01/28/2026
President's Message: WHY the Village Works
01/28/2026
TV: Behind the Scenes
01/28/2026
Trauma to Triumph
01/28/2026
1619 Group Reflects on Politics, Climate, and Democratic Strain
01/23/2026
How Pasadena Village Helped Me Rebuild After the Eaton Fire
01/10/2026
Status - January 6, 2026
01/06/2026
Some Thoughts at 3:00 AM by Beverly Lafontaine
By Jim HendrickPosted: 08/16/2025
Some Thoughts at 3:00 AM
It's early morning, a time for work,
and I have made promises I can't keep.
Clocks tick no more, yet in my head
I hear their pulse. The outline of my body
wavers under a blue blanket
as if I lay in shallow water.
Last night I was crazy,
moonlight avoided my face.
Meteors plucked out of the water,
split in half in of such
a sad ending to a glorious flight
begun before there was time.
Our minds are meager for these imaginings
and we are such insufficient beings.
Nevertheless keys turn,
horns honk, bills arrive to be paid.
Words aren't enough, nor are images.
Thoughts, the way words lie on the page,
sometimes dance, sometimes weep.
Anything can happen.
A timeless beauty leaves her husband
for a younger man, war ensues.
A chance meeting in the desert,
and a baker becomes a mystic.
Poets lay these stories on the page,
warm them with their very breath.
Their spit, like any mother's,
is corrective, cleansing.
Every poet dances alone
at 3:00 in the morning,
blue moonlight falling on the floor.
π₯³ππππ€πππ₯°ππ₯ΈThis poem was written and read by Beverly Lafontaigne at A Poetry Gathering on July 14.
