And her spirit shall live within the sea
immortality within its ebb and flow.
Ashes tossed from sandy shore catch wind,
float quietly ‘neath shifting clouds
sink, adhere to anemones
and sail on dolphin fins.
Her smile illuminates in lunar path,
glistens under golden sun.
And generations shall feel her touch
toes stepping, leaping within her waves.
There is a point in our emotional being when one crosses over to another place, even if for only a moment in time. Such was my experience last week. We happened to visit a Buddhist temple at their time of worship. Golds and deep reds dazzled my eyes as carved wooden panels, candles, supplicants and monks came into my sight line. Peripheral vision seemed to disappear. Chanting and soft rhythmic bells calmed in this mystical place. I found myself kneeling, head bowed, hands folded, sensing an other-worldness of supreme thanksgiving for life. For those few moments, I was in an inward place, so deep inside myself. Very hard to explain in words. . . and then it was time to leave. I walked out into sunlight, to talk and live, in the now and here again world I normally occupy.
mountains disappear
clouds bridge to earth as fine mist
then lift in sun’s light
Posted from Singapore for dVerse where Grace asks us to write a haibun incorporating the word “bridge.” JUST A WARNING to dVerse readers: I am traveling for 40 days. We board our ship Monday and will be at sea for two days (no internet) and then in Bali – internet questionable. This means although I may be able to write and have someone at dVerse link in for a prompt, many times I will not be able to reply to comments or read and reply to others’ poems. It is not at all because I am ignoring your poems. So–do take that into consideration on any of my future posts — except for the last five days in Sydney. I will totally understand if folks choose not to read my posts during this time. I also am operating with an iPad instead of my computer and can’t figure out how to highlight a word and link it to a URL or to make it italics – excuse the all caps. PS: Singapore has been glorious!
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
will we sing, and bless this place.
William Shakespeare: A Midsummer Night’s Dream
She fancied herself a fairy at an early age.
Each toddler step produced peels of laughter
from those who regaled in every teetering move.
She gathered smiles and tucked them away
behind sweet curly tendrils,
within folds of chubby knees,
in the sparkly depths of deep blue
behind delicate lashes with flutter dreams.
And as her steps grew wider, longer,
she skipped around the globe
passing out smiles to all she came upon,
turning darkness inside out
to light the path of many.
She was the first within a multitude,
if only we believe.
Feel their touch in sunbeams,
look within darkness and seek their starry light.
Gaze into delicate etchings of frost
upon our windows in the coldest of days,
and understand.
There are fairies and angels among us,
if only we believe.
And we can choose their ways,
light a path through darkness
and create smiles within the world.
Welcome to Tuesday’s Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today I’m tending bar and asking writers to kick up their heels a bit…..give me the ole razzle dazzle! Give us some sparkle! Think of the meaning of these words and either use one, two, all or none of the words while creating a poem that evokes their mood. Stop by to read the full prompt and see what others come up with. Come enjoy some razzle dazzle with us!
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.
For six minutes you belonged to eternity. Then paddles upon your chest. Twice.
You were here but not here. A stainless steel and glassed in room with whirrs, beeps, and methodical suction sounds. Your body, cold and dormant, in transition. A shell suspended in time that encased your soul, your mind. You were somewhere in a season unknown to us. We waited. We prayed for your voice and love and laugh to break through and survive.
chrysalis hangs by thread
holds life in transition within its seams
to be or not to be
It’s haibun Monday at dVerse and our beloved Toni reminds us that in Japanese culture, the aesthetic is all about change – impermanence. “Mujo. Our lives are not the same as yesterday nor will they be the same tomorrow.” Haibun: prose (not fiction) followed by a nature-related haiku. dVerse opens today at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Toni will be taking a hiatus from dVerse until November. We shall miss her dearly.
October 15, 2013: the love of my life broke through and returned to us. Thankful for every day.
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 comes a point in time
when life doesn’t migrate,
it meanders.
Meanwhile . . .
morning alarms come alive
coffee is gulped, black and strong.
Commuter rails and trails
fill with busy bees,
drones and queens with tasks ahead.
Life moves on a conveyor belt,
bar codes intact . . .
while I roll over,
wiggle my toes
and let the day unfold.
Shared at dVerse, Open Link Night, a virtual pub for poets. Folks share a poem of their choice on OLN. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Photo: dawn in Provincetown, Cape Cod.
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.
Do not be squeamish about the reptilian way.
It is in the leaving that release comes.
Rid oneself of dead skin,
not as a phoenix turns to ash
and rises again.
Rather as the serpent who uncoils,
shrugs off its past
and continues on.
Quadrille (44 words: no more no less; not including the title) written for dVerse. De asks us to write a quadrille that includes the word “leave” or a form of the word. dVerse is a virtual bar for poets and opens today at 3 PM Boston time. Come try your hand and post a quadrille of your own or just come to imbibe the words of others! dVerse offers prompts on Mondays and Tuesdays and most Thursdays are Open Link Night — a time to post a poem of your choice, without restraint or motivation of a prompt. Hope you’ll join us!
Hanks of yarn wound into balls,
worked inch by inch into comforting garb.
Orb turned over and over,
lengths of colors pulled and stretched.
Fingers weave and eyes watch carefully
as a painstakingly beautiful pattern appears.
Would that love be so carefully wrought
upon this orb we call home.
lillian the home poet 