Today’s MTB at DVerse is about haiku sequences. I know haiku are usually about nature, but my sequence is about St. Mary Magdalene, whose feast day was a few days ago, on July 22.
The sun was rising
When Mary Magdalene came
To visit the tomb.
The sun was rising
To start a mournful morning:
Was the Lord stolen?
Mary Magdalene
Stayed and waited when she came,
‘Til Jesus found her.
To visit the tomb
Then able to tell good news –
The Belovèd lives!
This quadrille is for Quadrille Monday at DVerse and also fits with FOWC: Epic.
A life need not be epic,
It need not even be long,
To know that it has purpose,
To know that it belongs.
It may be full of brambles,
Pain amidst the little fruits:
Have faith that while it ambles,
Its dignity is absolute.
This week’s haikai challenge from Frank J. Tassone is “smoldering hot (moyuru)” . I wrote a few, and these are the 2 that I like best.
Impatient protests:
Unfriendly sun already —
Air conditioning
Heat steals my water —
Pastor’s homily about
Being fertile soil
I was doing the Liturgy of the Hours today, and 1 Kings chapter 19 was the first reading this morning. This isn’t the first time I’ve read this passage, but I’m always grateful for it. Elijah is so relatable. *laughs*
Elijah:
You get me.
You sat under the broom tree
Wishing for the Lord to sweep
Away your life, your misery.
Threats from Jezebel became
Too tough, so you had had enough.
But God didn’t grant that wish.
Good news for the rest of the Testament
I guess, but I’m still
Lying here, Elijah.
Teach me to take courage.
1 Kings 19:3-4 (NIV)
3 Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, 4 while he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.”
DVerse is back, after a 2-week vacation, so here is a quadrille containing the word “blue.” This was written as a sort of response to Robert Frost’s poem “Fragmentary Blue,” which Kim shared with us.
I think we make a big deal
Of those fragmentary blues
Since they speak to our souls
About the Love deep as the ocean,
About the true Heaven
For which the sky is a mere comparison:
True light glints off
Glimpses of these fragments.
I was thinking about the “Our Father” prayer and wrote this.
Give us this day
Gratitude for simply living.
Give us this day
The grace to walk the narrow way
Aright; and to assuage pain’s sting,
A heart of generous giving
Give us, this day.
I’m a “fan” of SoCS. 🙂 Here are two little poems I wrote for it. The second was inspired by today’s Gospel reading (see Mark 12:42).
Finally! Cold
Air blowing —
Needed relief.
The widow’s two coins:
Nothing fancy, far from it
But what a great gift.
I am sharing this with the Writers’ Pantry, as we say goodbye to May and say “Onward, June.” I’m happy about today being the special day of Pentecost, yet this is what I wrote in response to reading a passage from Romans 8 this morning.
He who searches hearts:
Understand this muddled voice
Troubled with what-if
Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God
Romans 8:26-27 (NKJV)
For DVerse Poetics about portals. This has the rhyme scheme of a Chaucerian stanza but no consistent meter.
When God led the Israelites
Through the Red Sea,
It was a portal to new life
Out of slavery,
But not without difficulty —
Some doors are hurdles to get through,
Need keys to unlock wider view.
This week, Frank challenges us to write a 14-line poem. I was going to write a sonnet but decided to try two Chaucerian stanzas. My poem is inspired by today’s Gospel reading, which is John 14:1-6.
The Lord has said He will prepare a place
And that He will return to take us back,
So that we may live always face to face,
Realizing finally there is no lack
In love, and that there’s safety from attack.
We must wait patiently for His return,
The chaste heart of His bride He will not spurn.
His words were difficult to understand,
Even for His disciples to believe.
In times distressing we look to what’s planned
And know that there is someday a reprieve,
Pure paradise which we will never leave:
There are manifold places there to dwell,
I long for that day when all will be well.
