We pray, oh Lord, send your sun,
rays of warmth in the midst of cold.
May we awaken to beams of light,
aperture streaks in these darkest times.
Fill our hearts with compassion
that we may genuflect in hope.
Photo taken a number of years ago at a beautiful church in Tallin, Estonia.
Joined by a solitary heron,
I watch silently
as light begins to streak the sky.
Dawn breaks and simultaneously
this magnificent creature rises,
tucks its spindle legs
and spreads its wings to soar,
assured a new day has begun.
Photos taken this morning at dawn.
Light me a new day, oh Lord.
Your beauty abounds
in the firmaments above
and the ebb and flow of your seas.
We give thanks for the birth of this morn,
a time to live and love.
This morning’s dawn in Provincetown, MA.
There are grey days
cloud descendant misty days
loud angry thunder days
torturously grueling tortoise days
furiously frenetic days
and there are flowers.
Petals for the gathering.
Sunflower fields
heady lilacs, sweet moss rose
shasta daisies, brown-eyed susans
and anytime-of-day four o’clocks.
All ye readers, come flower with me.
Close your eyes and just imagine
a world in bloom, not aflame,
an every hour morning glory.
Written for dVerse Tuesday Poetics where Mish asks us to make a wish today. All photos taken from various vacations, walks around Boston and Provincetown.
White curtains flutter.
Breeze billows through fabric,
createing long cloth ripples
filled and unfilled by unseen wind.
Door left ajar.
The void space within its frame,
a vacancy that waits
filled with hope.
The null set.
Emptiness that knows,
change by one
changes everything.
Written for dVerse, a virtual poets’ pub, where Bjorn is tending bar today and asks us to write a quadrille (44 words, not including title) that makes use of the word jar. A bit of poetic license: did include a jar (ajar).
Effervescent, she shook up life
until it bubbled delicious.
Wore glitter star barrettes
high-kicking through life
like a sequined Rockette.
Bjorn is tending the bar today at dVerse and asks us to write a Twitter poem:
exactly 140 characters. A character is defined as a letter, space, hyphen, or punctuation mark.
Yep, that’s me. About 10 years ago, celebrating with the Boston Pops on the 4th of July on the esplanade. This shot made the jumbotron that night! I always wanted to be a Rockette! 🙂
Slivers of stardust
xxlie
xxxin
xxxxhis
xxxxxpath.
Stairway to heaven
lightens the way.
My job surprised me. I was a person I thought I was not. Travelling the world alone, meeting with corporate VIPs like I knew their business. Their eyes looked for someone else when they entered the room. And they found just me. India, Morocco, Germany, China, Thailand. And just me.
In Brazil, on a rare no-appointment day, I took a flying leap. Quite literally.
Strapped to a stranger, we took five running steps to the mountain’s edge and I was hang gliding. He started to talk. Point out landmarks below. Shhhh. Please, no. Silent exhilaration as we drifted through rays of sun. Slow banks turned me to a spiritual place: empowered, thankful, proud. I am doing this. Feet touched earth after ten minutes of solitude strapped to a man I knew not. And during that time, a lifetime of time, I became a new me.
Breeze flows midst rays of sun
clouds drift through golden shimmer
let go, let God, and soar.
Haibun written for dVerse Poets’ Pub, Open Link Night. Poets may post a poem of their choice. Photos: yep – that’s me.
Chrysalis dream
mezmerising solitude
finding peace within.
Photo from Provincetown, Cape Cod.
Train moved round the bend, civilized now,
not then. Those days, she chose life
off the beaten track. No lookin’ back.
Twenty-six claims staked and panned.
Never hit it rich the way we define it.
Kantishna, home to caribou, moose
and Fannie Quigley. One tough broad.
Slung back whiskey and cussed with ‘em all.
Calloused hands skinned her kill
then rolled flaky pie crust,
bear lard, the secret.
Legendary in her day and beyond,
she took no train but her own.
Written for NaPoWriMo 2016 Day 5 and dVerse Pub for Poets where Bjorn suggests we use the idea of railroad/trains for a poem today. Photo Credits: from our Alaska trip last year. We visited the remote cabin of Fannie Quigley.
lillian the home poet 