Campfire Theology
Charred remains of last night’s campfire
spoke to us like Turkish coffee grounds.
Under the constellations
of an archer, a maiden, and a swan,
we imagined goals
we’d live to see, become.
Blue and yellow flames lapped
like waves against the tinder and
warmed the embrace of the cool night.
We waited for the embers’ last glimmer.
Our dreams floated up to the stars.
Deb Johnston
Oh, Gentle Traveler
As you make your way,
know my love is with you.
Be strong across broad water.
Journey the length of the great river.
Find me in the glow of each sunrise.
Feel my strength in the tall pine and
my tender kiss in buttercup and hyacinth.
May clear crisp winds surround you,
shelter you always.
Deb Johnston
Writer, word gatherer
wanderer of Wisconsin
sometimes witty, wise, wacky
willful worrier of Wetlands.
Wondering which work to write next.
I grew up in Iowa along the Mississippi River.
where I was once tetherball
champion at Camp WaMaKa.
Summer mornings were for swim lessons,
a quick lunch
and back to the pool with friends.
Then along came Nancy Drew,
Bess, and Laura Ingalls—
books have always had
an important role in my life.
One of the best parts of being a teacher
is talking about all the wonderful books
available to kids and encouraging
future authors.
Thanks for joining me on this journey.
Deb Johnston 