It starts out slowly:
A little trickle,
A touch so faint
You wonder if you really
Felt its presence —
Then, the clouds,
Which the skies embrace,
Open up slowly,
As if given permission,
To let go their tears
Into a deluge of grace.
I wrote this yesterday, inspired by the light rain that briefly became more of a downpour, and am sharing it with the Writers’ Pantry.
This is a tribute to one of my good friends, a little late for the prompt at Poets United, but still worth posting.
When the morning seems a little bleak,
If we meet, and over cups of coffee
Talk about most anything — not only
My difficulties but your life and His
Resurrection — you, my friend,
Your very presence is good medicine.
For FOWC: Social.
Social media:
Echo-chambers among
Narcissus-posts hoping
For growth of likes and shares —
The myth-maker daily
Scrolls and stares,
Searching for someone
To voice validation,
A virtual fence from
Lonely fears and cares.
In response to SoCS: pack/unpack, hosted by Linda G. Hill.
How difficult it is
To unpack emotions
When returning from
A trip to denial:
Having packed them
So tightly in the valise,
How difficult it is
To loose them,
And let them go.
How simple it is
To misconstrue them,
When seeing only
The tip of the iceberg,
And none below.
This is shared with DVerse Open link, and I am also linking it to Heeding Haiku because I wrote this while trying to come up with a haiku about clouds.
Clouds highlight aqua sky :
Cirrus wisps whisper
Strings of gifts across
The broad expanse —
Under which imagination drifts
And daydreams dance.
I suppose I can rewrite this into a haiku!
Cirrus wisps whisper
Gifts of daytime reverie:
Clouds highlight wide sky
Thanks to FOWC: Forever and Sanaa’s prompt about flowers for partially inspiring this new poem of mine.
I want you to buy me flowers,
Even if blooms as beautiful as
Pink carnations will be
Withered within a week —
A part of me wishes to gripe,
“Why try? We know it’s not
Forever so why create
A scenario for heartbreak?”
Another part is ready,
To take a breath, deep,
Unwilling to safety keep
When it means stifling —
To remember that we
Know not everything.
At DVerse, we are asking, “What day is it anyway?”. This poem was inspired by my usual Thursday schedule, since I have all morning to myself that day. I go to work in the afternoon and evening on Thursdays but wanted to ignore that in my poem. 🙂
Thursday I will lose myself
In several types of books.
I will swim in a coffee cup
And be inwardly warmed up.
May the morning wake refreshed
And beautifully stretch.
