Palinode

Although this is a bit late, when I saw that DVerse was challenging us to write a palinode for this week’s Meeting the Bar, I had to participate. I almost never write these, but they are special to me: Back when I was an atheist, I wrote three poems about how God probably doesn’t exist. After I became a Christian, I felt bad about it. Then, during the next NaPoWriMo, one of the prompts was to write a palinode, and so I wrote a palinode for each one of those anti-God poems, retracting their statements. It was a healing exercise for me, and when I read the story of Jesus and Saint Peter in John chapter 21, I was floored!

Today’s palinode has nothing to do with that, but I really wanted to share that background story. This is, instead, written as a response to the shadorma I wrote yesterday (click here).

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A Gift

I didn’t write very much today, but even a busy (in a happy way) day will not hamper my posting at least once per day in April! This poem was partially inspired by this prompt about GIFTS. I am also linking with DVerse OLN today.


As guiltless as when laid in manger-bed,
The Lamb of God, to silent slaughter led,
Amidst such shame, innocence underscored —
My thorn-crowned Lord.

At death itself He has mortally swung,
In my own high-walled life, Jesus has hung
Over my Jericho, a scarlet cord —
My thorn-crowned Lord.

It is a gift to see Him on the cross,
Although my heart does break at pain and loss:
I see He knows my pain, has love outpoured,
My thorn-crowned Lord.

What Was Now

For DVerse, a haibun about the present moment.


Lungs continue to inflate. Outside, white clouds are Rorschach blots in a sea of sky. The neighbors’ cypress tree is leaning as the wind breathes. Lungs hold their precious breath as birds chip. Lungs let go: Exhale.

sunny afternoon
notice past preconceptions
a breeze — a shiver


This picture was taken when 11 months ago was “now.”

Hungry Birds

My family’s garden has been a frequent source of inspiration lately (and honestly almost every time I go out there), and it fit perfectly with PSU’s Weekly Scribblings prompt, “Bird is the Word.” I am also linking with DVerse OLN.


goldfinch and friends cheep
perch and search among the plants:
empty bird-feeder

 

Poor birds. 😦 I still saw plenty of them, though.

Haibun for the End of March

A haibun for DVerse, alluding to cherry blossoms, also partially inspired by FOWC: Slight, but mostly inspired by my family’s garden.


A warm afternoon at the end of March passes both languidly and much too quickly. The sky is blue, with no clouds blowing in the slight breeze. A monarch butterfly, black-and-orange wings majestic and beautiful flies — almost floats — nearly close enough to kiss the nose of an observer. The bird-feeders, filled for the first time in a long while, attract many other winged creatures, feathered things opening their hungry beaks.

And it is around now, when the cherry blossoms bloom at their peak.

Nature takes her time —
From the outside see Earth spin
Making us dizzy

Kyrielle: The Past

This poem is a form called a kyrielle, for Linda’s paint-chip poetry prompt. I wrote this yesterday but saved the post for today. The paint chip words are below. I am also linking with DVerse OLN.

Enter the past, see its warm glow,
Its happiness when it begins —
Until it becomes a black widow:
The veil is tissue-paper thin.

It takes two to tango, this game
That every person is cast in.
Responsibility or blame?
The veil is tissue-paper thin.

In life, some events cause a blast,
Some future concerns make a din,
As present turns into the past —
The veil is tissue-paper thin.

Spark

This quadrille, containing the word “swift,” is for DVerse (a day late) and for FOWC: Spark (on time).


One spark alights, on grass and kindling dry
One spark ignites, swiftly all its surroundings
One spark lights, a fallen Lucifer
In the inky night, flinging open a portal
To hell, as flames leap up where
One spark fell.

Be careful, playing with matches.

crop woman with burning match in motuh
Photo by fotografierende on Pexels.com