This is for Frank’s haikai challenge about the Flower Moon, which happens to be tonight. Also, May is the month when Catholics honor Mary in a special way, and one of the traditional activities is called a May Crowning. Here is a picture from one that I participated in last year.
Soon a May crowning:
In many-starred night-sky cloak
Today at DVerse Poetics, Bjorn asks us to write about solitude. He adds, “Solitude to me is a tool to handle loneliness,” an insight that I really liked. This poem was inspired by the fact that I tend to do most of my writing in the morning, yet I also wrote this poem just now.
It is early in the morning,
No one to greet except Jesus
And the sun, prayers rising,
And pen bringing more words,
Companions into my world.
It is getting late at night,
With the moon out to play
And many people sleeping, less light,
With pen vivifying more verses
To get through this darker time.
This haibun-ish poem is written in response to DVerse Poetics “now I can see” prompt. Follow the link for more information and many responses.Note: I wasn’t sure what to write for this prompt, but then my friend bought me coffee beans and left them on the porch with a nice little note.
When the barn has burned down,
oh, you can see the moon!
When the structure has crumbled,
soon, naturally, you can see peace.
When the churches are closed,
you realize more deeply, what
Jesus means by, “I am with you always.”
When we must stay far apart,
we find new ways to share our heart.
morning, a surprise:
friendship grows through coffee gift
outside on the porch
The world needs an arboretum
Full of imperfect beauty:
Where the wisteria will know it’s wonderful,
Even without the dandelion’s innocence,
Even without the roses’ alluring
Cotton-candy pink petals —
Where the sun and the full moon
Shine upon multicolored flowering.
I’m a little behind on prompts, so this poem is for Frank’s haikai challenge about the Wolf Moon, DVerse’s haibun Monday about beginnings, and JusJoJan day 7, “mix.”
At the beginning of this year, I think of the last — a mixture of joyous and difficult, heavy on the bitterness — and I get nervous. Emotions cannot void the truth: that I got through 2019 (someone even told me I was thriving), and the same can be for 2020. Memories of sadness stick a little better, but count the stars of happy moments — if you are able to number them.
After fullness starts anew —
This is the first time I am posting for DVerse Prosery. We are to write a piece of flash-fiction that includes a line from a poem. This week’s poem is “Cow” by Jim Harrison, and the line is “A cow is screaming across the arroyo.” Please tell me what you think, since this might get very strange. Have fun!
“the centre cannot hold;…
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?”
— W.B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”
The earth and heavens have flipped: A fish is floating in the sky. A deluge drives down from the dark clouds, evaporating before it hits the cracked aridity of desert ground. A dehydrated cow fears being dried into jerky, and searching fearfully and futilely, is screaming across the arroyo, while it jumps over the crater-covered moon.
The sun and moon are in a desert dance, as earth and sky are battling. They must find a way to meet in the middle, yet it is impossible. Soon all fish will be floating, clouds will vanish, and all arroyos will be silent and dry.